The Boys of '85
by Karaya 2
Summary: After the end of the Vietnam War, the United States Military has been shamed facing slander from both home and abroad. But in the year 1985 a portal to parallel dimension opens in Japan and the United States is given the chance to redeem itself.
1. Chapter One: If you call, We'll answer

**Title: The boys of '85**

 **Chapter One: If you call, we'll answer**

 _"Perhaps we need some outside, universal threat to make us recognize this common bond."_

 _-Ronald Reagan_

 **August 13th, 1985, Montana**

It was another peaceful day in western Montana, the sun hung low over the hills and a warm breeze blew through the countryside. Nestled between two hills stood an 1900s style homestead, white railing lined the wrap around porch and glass pane windows caught the afternoon sun casting a shimmering light. Several yards behind the homestead stood a two story barn painted red and white, right next to it, same in design, was a much smaller chicken coop. The scene was the embodiment of the old American west.

The homestead had been in the same family for generations and had seen several generations of warriors grow up within its walls. One generation fought in the trenches of the Argonne, another stormed the beaches of Iwo Jima and shivered in the cold of the Chosin, one was shamed for what it's participation in Vietnam, and the latest had stood watch on the German border. A veteran of Vietnam sat rocking in his chair with a cigar in hand as he remembered his days in the skies above Southern Vietnam. Over there in the asian skies every thing was clear, hunt down and kill those who dare oppose his brothers on the ground. His comrades in which he protected saw him as a guardian, the people he swore to protect back home saw him as murderer.

His country had changed since that war in Vietnam, a nation that had welcomed his father and grand father home as heroes had welcomed him back insults and threats. However that did not prevent him from telling his sons of the dogfights and anti-radar missions he had taken part in. In one of his sons he had unknowingly sent him down a path, a path that lead him into the arms of the United States Army. Dawson O'Hare watched as a figure of a man walked down the beaten dirt road towards the homestead.

Within a few minutes the figure was only feet from the front steps. The young man around the age of twenty, stood dressed in tri color BDUs and wearing a patrol cap in similar colors stood before him. The young man set down his duffle bag and saluted Dawson.

Dawson smirked as he looked at his eldest son. "You never change do you Allen?"

Allen O'Hare smiled. "At least I can do it right this time dad."

Dawson laughed and climbed down the steps to embrace his son. "You shoulda called, I would have come and pick you up."

"I felt like walkin' today. Besides I didn't want to put you out by having you come pick me up."

"So you decided to walk the thirty miles from town."

"Yep."

Dawson laughed again. "Well come on inside, you know both Anna and your mom missed you."

Allen slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and climbed the steps, he followed his father inside the homestead. He looked around the entrance way of the house, it looked like nothing had changed since he left the picture of his grandfather and great grandfather hanging near the staircase, the same small palm tree his mother had bought during a family vacation to Florida and his old track shoes lay by the door.

"Hey Maria guess who just appeared outta nowhere!" His father yelled.

His mother, Maria O'Hare, made her way out of the kitchen and into the entrance way. Her eyes went wide with shock when she saw her son standing in the doorway, she hadn't seen Allen since he had gone off to basic two years earlier. Maria approached her son and hugged him before speaking.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming home?"

Allen took off his cap and ran a hand through his blond hair. "Well I told Anna I was coming home on leave."

Allen didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before his mother started calling for his sister to come down from her room. He could hear footsteps on the floor above him and soon his sister, a young girl in her mid teens, ran down the stairs and stopped in front of her mother.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you tell us your brother was on his way home?" His mother asked placing her hands on her hips.

"He told me he wanted it to be a surprise." Anna answered.

"Way to throw me under the bus Anna."

Allen's mother shot him a glare before going back to talking to his sister.

"Go up and get your brother." His mother said, Anna scowled at the request.

"Do I have to? I mean will he even want to come down and talk to Al?"

"Anna just go up there and get him."

"Alright mom, don't say I didn't warn you." Anna replied before climbing back up the stairs. Allen looked over at his Father with a look of confusion.

"Uhh what's going on with Adam?"

His father groaned in annoyance. "That boy is knee deep in shit he doesn't understand."

"Dawson! Watch your language." Maria snapped.

"What I'm trying to say is Adam is wrapped up in all this anti war and anti military crap. He sees people like you and me as the enemy now."

Allen raised and eyebrow. "You're kidding?"

"I wish I was. Him taking part in those "Movements" has kinda driven a wedge between him and your sister." Dawson said before taking a drag on his cigar.

"I thought those two were close though?"

"Anna is well... she's on the opposite end of the scale. I can't count how many time I had to pick her up from school because she started a fight with someone who said something bad about the military." His mother sighed.

Allen burst out laughing at the thought. "Wait wait wait, you're telling me that tiny little Anna is going around kicking people's asses cause of what they say?"

"Yep, ever since you left she's become dead set on joining the military, swears to god she's gonna become the first women fighter pilot." Dawson replied.

Allen continued to laugh. "With her in the sky the Russian air force wouldn't stand a chance."

A few seconds later Anna came back down the stair with a look of annoyance on her face.

"He said he didn't want to talk to "That baby killer", I told this would happen."

"Baby killer? He does understand that my job was to stare at Russian in the Fulda Gap right?"

"He doesn't care, really Al he's become a real asshole this past year."

"Anna!"

"It's true mom."

"You keep swearing and I'll take your radio away." Maria threatened, Anna immediately stepped down. "Now dinner will be done soon, go wait in the living room, ok?"

Allen, his father and sister moved into the adjacent room, Allen sat down on the sofa with his sister sitting right next to him while their father took his normal seat in an old padded chair. Dawson began to recount some of his favorite stories from when he was in the Navy, the first time he shot down a MiG-21 and when he and his wingman took out several SAM sights in their most successful "Wild Weasel" run. In return Allen told stories of his deployment in Germany and how his friend almost kicked off World War Three by flipping off a Russian commissar on the German-Czech border.

As the Veteran and young Soldier exchanged stories the news droned on in the background. The positive atmosphere changed when a news alert interrupted a weather forecast. Images from a news helicopter began to fill the screen with something they couldn't quite comprehend. A pile of dead in the streets of Tokyo, panicked civilians trying to flee the killing zone, and an army that seemed like it had come from the Classical Era struck down all in their path. It soon became clear that Japan was under attack. A reporter began yelling into a microphone as a news helicopter flew around the scene below.

"We don't know who is behind these attacks but the epicenter of it all seems to be coming for some unknown structure in downtown Ginza." The reporter said in an accented english.

The camera panned to reveal a white marble structure amongst the modern buildings of Japan. Over the microphone Allen could hear the voice of the pilot.

"The hell is that?" The camera panned once more a caught sight of a dragon heading straight for the helicopter. The pilot quickly dipped down under the dragon and took off full speed away from the beast and it's rider.

"What are you doing!? Bring us back over there!" The reporter yelled.

"Sorry can't do that sir." The pilot replied, by the reaction and calm demeanor of the pilot Allen assumed he was prior military. The camera panned again this time it caught sight of the American embassy.

"Jesus christ." Dawson muttered.

Atop the walls of the embassy compound the Marine guards stood their ground firing into the crowd of Roman looking soldiers and the strange beast that accompanied them. From the helicopter it seemed like a one sided fight as the Marine rifles cut down the soldiers by the dozens, on the ground however the embassy guard was in dire straights. It became obvious that if help didn't arrive soon the guard would be overwhelmed. But hope came in the sound of the thudding of multiple rotor blades.

Down the street two UH-1 Hueys touched down and dropped off a platoon of Marines. The two helicopters took and began to lay down fire with door mounted fifty caliber machine guns as the Marines closed in on the enemy with M-16s firing in bursts. All of this was caught on camera by the news helicopter. It didn't take long for the area around the embassy to be cleared and the evacuation of personnel began. The tide had quickly shifted in the favor of the Americans and the Japanese Defense Force as fighters wrestled control of the skies from the enemy and Helicopter and ground forces fought street to street, building to building to push back the invaders,

Dawson looked over at his son. "Allen, I have a feeling that this will be your war."

 **Ginza Japan, August 24 1985**

"Condor Two-Four this is Three, damn the hell kind of shit storm did we walk into?"

Two AH-1F Cobra attack helicopters flew in a formation above Tokyo. Before them lay the very image of hell, buildings were on fire and smoke rose in columns into the sky. Countless helicopters dotted the city skyline and jets dove on unidentified hostiles. Most of the Cobras in the sky at the moment belonged to the United States Marine Corps, but Condor Four and Three were different. They belonged to the United States Army's First Battalion, 227th Aviation Regiment.

The Cobra known as Two-Four was piloted by First Lieutenant Kyle Fletcher, only a few feet in front of him and separated by computers, flight systems, and steel was his Weapons Systems Operator Warrant Officer Chase Howle. The two had been working together for almost a year patrolling the DMZ on the Korean Peninsula, their unit had been rotating home with their equipment when a situation developed in Ginza. Two of the units helicopters had been scrambled to get eyes on the situation, they didn't expect to see some sort of Roman army running rampant throughout the city.

"Yo Howle, you got the gun?"

"My finger's been on the trigger sense we entered Tokyo airspace." Chase replied traversing the M197 back and forth as he searched for targets.

"Hey, uhh four, we're getting panicked chatter over here."

Kyle looked over to his right at the other AH-1.

"Yeah I hear it, can't make out a damn work of it." Kyle replied.

The situation seemed it couldn't get worse until the voice of a Japanese officer came over the radio.

"We're surrounded at the Imperial palace! God damn it, they've brought up siege equipment. If any American units can hear this we need air support now!" The officer yelled into the radio.

"Where's the Imperial palace?" Kyle quickly asked.

"Several miles from here, guns hot Sir we can be their less than ten minutes."

"What do you say Three? Want to get some work done."

"So much for sight seeing. Copy Four, let's go."

Kyle could hear his WSO pounding on the instrument panel over the radio.

"Finally I get to do what I fuckin' trained for!" Chase cheered as the helicopter swarmed off towards the Palace.

 **Fort Lewis Washington, August 24, 1985, 11:56**

A week had passed since the event that became known as the Battle of Ginza, the repercussion could already be seen as the Japanese prepared for a counter attack. In America debates in congress went on without end whether or they should assist Japan of break the Mutual Defense Treaty and stay out of it. Though in the last few days the arguments seemed to favor intervention. For Allen he was back on duty at Fort Lewis, his three day leave had ended and he reported back to First Battalion, Eighth Cavalry Regiment. The Battalion, up until recently, had been garrisoned at Fort Hood as part of the United States Armored Third Corps. That changed when the army decided that First Corps needed a heavy combined arms battalion in the Pacific.

For O'Hare it was another day guarding the east gate. He watched as a 1967 Dodge Charger pull up to the guard shack, O'Hare shuffled forward and repeated the the same process he had performed all day. Check the ID, salute if it was an officer, send them on their way and wave the next car forward.

O'hare checked the soldiers ID, a second lieutenant only a year older than him. The Lieutenant, Nathaniel Wheeler took the card when O'Hare handed it back."

"Have a good day Sir." O'Hare said as he saluted the officer.

As the car pulled forward O'hare turned around and went back into the guard shack. He sat down and picked up a book he had been trying to read for the last few days, he had just started to get comfortable when he heard a knock on the door. Standing in the doorway was his squad leader Staff Sergeant James Smith. Smith a man of Norwegian descent stood just a foot shorter than O'Hare. O'Hare closed his book and set it back down on the desk,

"Hey S'arnt, whatcha need today?"

"Nothing, just heard you got put on gate duty again." James replied moving out of the way as Allen exited the shack.

Allen shrugged. "Yeah must of pissed of Spanky again." O'Hare pulled out a pack of cigarette from his BDU blouse and out on in his mouth. He patted his pockets trying to find his lighter, he looked over at James. "Can I bum a light off ya S'arnt?"

"No, you know I don't fuckin' smoke." James replied.

O'Hare took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it back in the pack.

"You know why the Captain is in a piss poor mood?"

Now it was Smith's turn to shrug.

"Beats me, you know he doesn't give two shits about the non-coms."

Captain William Swanky was the commanding officer of Charlie Company, more commonly known as Combat Company. Swanky, a son from a well off family and a graduate of West Point, had made it a habit to look down on the men appointed under him. Many of the men knew that to Swanky they were just another obstacle in his path to climbing the ranks. O'Hare leaned back against the wall of shack with his rifle hanging over his shoulder, he unwrapped a stick of chewing gum and popped it in his mouth. It would have to do until he could find his lighter.

The two men stood in silence until James spoke up.

"You hear the word around base O'Hare?"

"Nope."

"Apparently we're being deployed again."

"Really? Where to?"

"Japan."

O'Hare's eyes went wide with shock.

"Your kidding right!?"

James did not expect to hear excitement in the Specialist's voice, he had half expected O'Hare to complain about just getting back from Germany.

"No kidding, Sergeant Kaiser says that the Army is wanting to try out some new toys and there's a joint exercise between USFJ and the SDF coming up. BC wants Combat Company to represent First Corps."

"You think this had got anything to do with what happened in Tokyo last week?" O'Hare asked.

"Aight I'm gonna stop you right there, I know where you're going with this and it ain't happening. If any one goes through the Gate it's the Marines and not us."

"Come on Sergeant think about it, we're one of only two active Cavalry regiments in the Pacific theater and the Seventh and Second are tied up in Korea. We're goin' in."

"You're way too excited about this." Smith replied.

"I've been in the army for two years now Sergeant, two years of staring at Russians. It's about time I got to see some action."

"Hey don't be so gung ho, I was at Grenada. Shit ain't fun." Smith pulled out a can of dip and put some in his mouth. "Besides, we go back to Asia and the civies will be up in arms."

Another car pulled up to the guard shack, O'Hare checked the ID and sent the driver on his way.

"Tell me you ain't jumpin' at the thought of going to another world." O'Hare said. "To go where no man has gone before."

"Never was a fan of Star Trek." James replied before spitting tobacco on the ground next to him.

"Hey Star Trek is fuckin' awesome, don't you forget it."

"Now I know why Spanky put you on Gate duty."

 **First Corps Headquarters Fort Lewis, Washington**

Nathaniel Wheeler parked his car in front of the First Corps headquarters, the old red brick build had been the home of I Corps for many years. I Corps or America's Corps and her subordinate units were tasked with the defense of the American assets and allies in the Pacific and as of last week the Corps was tasked with the exploration of the world beyond the Gate. The old building was also home to the command element of First Battalion of the Eighth Cavalry Regiment, that was until a new Battalion building was set up for them.

The young Lieutenant pulled the keys out of the ignition and shoved them into his BDU blouse. He jogged up the stairs to the headquarters skipping other every step. He pushed open the heavy oak door and entered the headquarters. Inside both officers and enlisted move about the building, with the Battalion deploying to Japan soon the command center seemed busier than ever. Nathaniel navigated the winding hallways passing op centers, logistics units, S shops, and countless superior officers. After several minutes he had finally made it to the Company commanders office. He pushed open the door and walked in and made his way to a desk in the back where a shorter man sat flipping through papers. Nathaniel saluted the officer and introduced himself.

"Second Lieutenant Nathaniel Wheeler."

The officer grunted as he pushed himself away from the table and stood up, he halfheartedly returned the salute and sat back down.

"Lieutenant Wheeler," The officer said extending the R in his last name. "You're late."

"Sorry sir, traffic on I-5 was backed up and."

"I don't want an excuse Lieutenant. I'm Captain William Swanky and as long as I am your commanding officer you will arrive on time no matter the circumstances. Am I clear."

"Yes sir." Wheeler replied.

"Good, report to Third platoon. Sergeant First Class Kaiser is your PSG"

Wheeler saluted once more before leaving the room, he sighed and shook his head.

"Got chewed out by Spanky on your first day, I'd say that's a new record."

Wheeler looked over at the young officer who had addressed him, a man of Asian descent who stood only a few inches short than Wheeler. He bore the same rank as him, the officer extended a hand to Wheeler.

"Names George Hyong, commander of First Platoon."

Nathaniel shook his hand.

"Wheeler."

"Well Wheeler, you'll learn fast that Spanky is a dick. Believe all that are below his are inferior just 'cause he went to West Point."

The two began walking down the hall towards the entrance.

"West point?"

"Yep, how he got there I don't know. Anyways I got here 'bout two weeks ago, some of the experienced officers are being reassigned to some of the reactivated regiments."

"Two weeks, so is it true that we're heading to Japan?" Wheeler asked.

George nodded his head. "Yeeup, now either we're going their to bolster the ranks of USFJ, or we're going through the gate as part of "Task Force Phoenix"."

Phoenix, the most popular rumor flying through the United States military. Apparently is was a multibranch and multinational task force whose mission was exploration of what the Japanese called the Special Region, along with supporting Japanese JSDF in their endeavour to hunt down the ones who attacked their capital.

"You really think they'll assign us to Phoenix."

"Hell yeah, 1-8 cav has got the experience. We got vets from Vietnam, Grenada hell even a few from Honduras and Nicaragua. That and we're the closest unit that ain't doin' shit."

"Just got here and I'm already deploying, anyways I'll check you later Hyung."

"Yeah later."

Nathaniel left the building and hopped into his car. He pulled out the parking lot and took off down the road, he drove down the road parallel to the airfield. He look to his left and saw countless UH-60A lined up on the runway. For the United States military, the '80s was a strange time as new equipment left the prototype stage and began to enter service into the military. The UH-60 began to replace the venerable UH-1 Huey, the M2 Bradley replaced the M113, and M151 Jeeps were replaced by the M998 Humvee. The new equipment and growing military strength was a sign that the United States was beginning to get over the Vietnam Syndrome.

It wasn't long until Nathaniel pulled into the barracks parking lot. He shut down his car and shuffled over towards the barracks. On the front deck several soldiers sat around an end table playing a game of poker. The men went around the table adding more to the pot which by now included many wadded up dollar bills and odds and ends such as packs of cigarettes, chew, gum, candy bars, and condoms. Nathaniel watches silently as round came to an end, two kings, a six, a four and an ace lay in the center of the table.

A black soldier showed his hand, a pair of twos. The other soldier smiled and put his hand on the table a pair of sixes.

"Full House, I win."

"You're robbing me blind Ray."

"You just need to learn when to give up." The soldier who won, Specialist Rayland Moore, said gathering his winnings while the one who lost Specialist Connor Mulligan shrugged.

"I had a chance."

"Not against me you don't." Rayland replied looking up.

Rayland quickly stood up and saluted when he saw Nathaniel watching them. The others around the table went to do the same but were stopped.

"Relax." Nathaniel started. "Continue playing but can one of you point me towards your platoon sergeant?"

The group looked around at each other before Mulligan replied.

"He's upstairs."

"Thanks."

Rayland spoke up just before Nathaniel entered the building.

"Excuse me Sir, but is it true we're going to Japan."

Nathaniel looked over at him. "I don't know, but it's likely."

 **September 10, 1985, Mount Yonaha Training Grounds Okinawa, Japan, 14:23**

"Mark Nineteen up!"

"Target front, 1,000 meters, mark 'em!"

Three thumps in rapid succession was heard as Allen fired the MK-19 sending three 40mm grenades down range. The launcher had been mounted on a Humvee giving the operator a semi elevated position to fire from. The Humvee was beginning to prove itself as a remarkable weapons platform being able to mount anything from an M-60 Machine gun to a TOW missile launcher. Compared with it high speed and mobility it soon became a favorite amongst the men of Combat company.

The three grenades that were fired impacted just short of their target kicking up a cloud of debris.

"Correction, bring the gun up five degrees." Rayland yelled.

"On it!" Allen leaned back a bit and pushed down on the MK-19 to bring the gun up. He fired another three grenades, this time they with with deadly accuracy as they landed amongst a legion of wooden cutouts.

This drill was nothing new to them, the lightly armored Humvee mounting either an M2 Browning or a MK-19 would drive up the berm, the section leader would call out the target, and the gunner would fire marking the target for the jets stacked up hundreds of feet above them.

"Target hit!" Rayland crowded.

Allen leaned back in the turret with a grin on his face. "Now the fun begins."

From behind came a dull roar, at first it sounded like waves crashing against rocks but as it got closer it turned into a terrifying wail as two Japanese F-1 armed with Mk-82 general purpose bombs soared overhead. The Japanese bombers zeroed in on the dust and smoke kicked up from the Mk-19 and released their bombs with pinpoint accuracy. The bombs tumbled from the wings and landed amidst the wooden legion, the resulting explosion sent clods of dirt, shrapnel and wood splinters in various directions.

As soon as the F-1s had bugged out a section of Marine F-4S Phantoms took their place. They flew in low and dropped their payload, the pilots jerked back on the control stick and began to climb as their eight Mk-84 bombs fell to earth. Several seconds later the bombs collided with the target and obliterated what remained of the wooden cut outs. From their position on the ridge the men of 1-8 cav and their Japanese counterparts cheered as the jets screeched overhead.

"Viper One hit confirmed, good run." A TAC operator said into his radio.

One of the F-4s rolled its wings back and forth in acknowledgment getting a few laughs from the men on the ground. Allen put an arm behind his head and stretched.

"Ya know, two weeks of this shit and it starts to get old." He said leaning forward on the Mk-19.

"Well it's better than guarding gates back at Lewis." Rayland replied as he lit a cigarette. "Don't know why we gotta do this in Japan though, like we've done the same shit at Yakima or hell we could've gone to the Mojave."

Allen shrugged. "Japan is gearing up for a major fight and wants to train domestically, we wanna scare the shit outta china? Don't know there is a fuck ton of shit it could be." Allen ducked down out of the turret and pushed open the passenger door of the Humvee. "But if I were a betting man, and I am a betting man, I'd say we're gonna be part of that task force going beyond the gate."

Rayland rolled his eyes.

"You keep saying that bro, it just ain't gonna happen."

"Why's that?"

Rayland sighed.

"Look we get into another armed conflict in Asia the civies back home are gonna throw a fit."

"They attacked our embassy, last time I checked that's an act of war. Besides don't we gotta uphold some sort of treaty?"

"The MDT?"

"Yeah that one." Allen said lighting up a cigarette of his own. "Anyways, Ronny Raygun is in office now, he's not going to let some shit kicking Romans push us around."

"Yo after what happened in Nam I'm surprised they still let us carry rifles. Shit I'm surprised they let Grenada happen!" Rayland took a drag on his cigarette and let out a cloud of smoke. He looked around at the Japanese soldiers milling about the area. "They look like they're lost."

"Huh?"

"The Japs, they look like the don't belong."

"I don't blame them, this 'ill be their first war in like what? Thirty, forty years?"

XXXXX

Thirty yards away from the Americans stood the Japanese military spectators. Among them stood a 29 year Defense force Lieutenant. He watched the Americans every move, analyzing them so that he would understand every man's job. The lieutenant leaned against a Type-82 command vehicle with a Type-64 rifle slung over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an SDF Lieutenant walk around aimlessly.

"You lost Lieutenant?" The lieutenant asked, the man turned to see who was asking.

"Umm, ahh, nope just looking for my platoon." The man replied. It was then that the lieutenant recognized the man, is face had been in the news since the attack on Ginza.

"You don't happen to be Lieutenant Itami Yōji by chance?"

"Yeah that's me." Itami replied.

The Lieutenant pulled his hand out of his pocket and extended it to Itami. "I thought so, First Lieutenant Daisuke Kita, First Helicopter Brigade. You did good last month, saved a lot of lives." Daisuke said shaking hands Itami.

"I was just in the wrong place at the right time I guess." Itami said with a shrug. "So umm, what do you think about these exercises? We've got a lot of firepower in one place."

"It's mutually beneficial, we get to live fire and the Americans can use their new toys." Daisuke said, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered them to Itami.

"No thanks, I don't smoke."

"Suit yourself." Daisuke said lighting a match. "Speaking of new toys, we've got some ourselves."

"Yeah I saw them on base, the High Mobility Vehicle looks a lot like those Humvees."

"No just the HMVs, our Type-74s are getting an overhaul and the ASDF just got several new F-15s and F-5s."

"Are we going to war?"

Daisuke was dumbfounded. "Lieutenant we've been at war. As a matter of fact you fought the first battle of it."

"You mean…"

"Yep, the Battle of Ginza." Daisuke replied as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"And the Americans?"

"They're not sitting this one out. We've called for their help and well this is their answer." Daisuke motioned to the American Soldiers and Marines.

"Well it's not my fight."

"Don't think you're gonna sit this one out either, you've got role to play in this." Daisuke said, he stood up straight and turned to leave. "And just between you and me Lieutenant, advanced scouts are going through in the next few days or so. Get it into your head that we are going through."

Daisuke walked away from the command vehicle leaving Itami in a state of shock. The Captain walked across the training ground and over to an HMV. He climbed in the passenger seat and slammed the door behind him.

"You know who's going in first?" He asked the driver. The driver was 25 year old Ayaki Fujimoto, Ayaki started the vehicle and began driving down the hill.

"Yes sir, one Beret ODA and us."

"And the mission?"

"Watch, listen, report and if need be cripple." Ayaki replied.

Daisuke dropped what remained of his cigarette out the window.

"This is gonna be interesting.

 **September 13th, 1985, Ginza Tokyo, 07:35**

Grey skies hung over Tokyo, a marine layer and heavy clouds rolled in overnight and the air was thick with moisture. In the center of an intersection was a large steel dome that housed the infamous Gate. Around it was a series of concrete blocks thrown together to form a wall. Every so often was a tower manned by SDF Military Police armed with Type-64s rifles and a Type-62 General Purpose Machine gun. Behind the wall American and Japanese Special Forces prepared for the "Jump" into the special region.

"All right boys, you know the mission. Once we clear the Gate we're in Indian country, our job isn't to engage the enemy only to observe and send what we see back home." An Irish American First Lieutenant said to his Platoon. Donavan Sinclair, a Green Beret standing at six feet tall.

At the age of 32 his red hair began to turn grey at the roots. The Berets wore woodland BDUs and patrol caps, all carried CAR-15 except for one who carried an M240. "Initial probes tell us that the Gate dumps us on a Hill, the terrain around Gate is more or less just hills and valleys. From an insertion on Hill 001 we are to move to Hill 003 and set up an OP."

"How long we gonna be in their sir?"

"A couple of weeks, we're bringing enough provisions to last us a month. We are the eyes and ears of the invasion people. Now mount up."

The Berets ran to their Humvees painted in woodland colors. Donavan glanced over at the JSDF Rangers. The Rangers climbed into their HMVs and began to start the engines. The quiet of the morning had been shattered by the roar of vehicle engines. He jumped into one of the Humvees and set his rifle between his legs.

"Do you really think the Japs can handle this?" A young black sergeant asked.

"Christ, I don't know Bowman. Apparently these guys are elite. As for combat experience they got none."

"So why fuck are they leadin' this fuckin' mission?"

"Because the higher ups want the Japanese to feel good about themselves." Donavan replied watching as the large steel doors opened giving way to the Gate inside. "Alright let's go."

"Yes sir." Bowman said.

The Humvee began to roll forward into the gate. They entered the tunnel and began picking up speed. The tunnel was illuminated by the headlights of Humvees and HMVs. The transit through the Gate was silent with the exception of the occasional radio check.

"Hey LT, we got light up ahead." Bowman said. Donavan looked up from the rough map that had been given to him.

"Alright turn the lights off."

Donavan reached for the radio transmitter mounted between the seats.

"Yōkai actual this is Alpha, we are closing in on the exit over."

In the HMV several vehicles back, Daisuke picked up the transmitter and replied.

"Copy that Alpha, proceed as planned out." He put down the transmitter. "Get the 62 up!"

There was a resounding clang as the gunner pulled the bolt back and let it loose. The gunner leaned in putting the stock of the MG against his shoulder. He watched as the American Humvees bolted through the exit and peeled off to the right making a beeline for Hill 003. Soon it was the Japanese vehicles leaving the Gate. The gunner shielded his eyes from the light with his hand, in a few seconds his eyes adjusted to the light. At the bottom of the hill where thousands of white and red tents dotted the field, enough to house several legions. He wondered if they could see him and the other men, he put the thought out of his mind and traversed the gun to aim at the Imperials below.

"God damn that's a lot of 'em!" The gunner said. "You think they're gonna try and pass through the Gate again?"

"No, I think they're digging in. Look to three o'clock, they got trenches, frisian horses, fuck they even got palisades." Daisuke said looking down on the imperial positions. "Sergeant, the moment we get up that hill I want you to designate several men to observe."

"Yes sir, you know if they did make another push."

"They wouldn't make it past the dome, that thing is a meter of reinforced steel." Daisuke said. "They can't break through even if they tried."

"But what if like you know, they use magic or some shit."

"Enough with the what ifs, alright we make our decisions off facts."

 **XXXXX**

An Imperial guard watched the strange dust cloud travel between the two hills, to him it was unnatural. Many a strange beast lived in these hills, he would never know, he was just a farm boy who had been drafted.

"Auxiliary! What do you see?" A centurion called from the bottom of the watchtower.

"A dust storm sir, I can't tell what's causing it but it's not natural." The Auxiliary replied.

"What?" The centurion climbed to the top of the watch tower and grabbed a telescope off his belt. He tracked the dust storm, at the lead was a horseless wagon traveling faster than any horse in the imperial army.

"By gods, what are those things?" The centurion said.

"What do you see sir?"

"Wagons without horses. Stay here, I'll take my troop and capture the conjurer behind these tricks." The centurion said climbing down the ladder.

 **Two hours later, Hill 003**

Sense they had passed through the gate the advanced scouts had made considerable progress in building an outpost. It was built on the slope opposite of Alnus, hiding the out post from prying eyes. HQ at the present time was no more than an OD green canvas tent with a couple of sandbags stacked around it. Several meters around it were small dugouts covered with canvas, these acted as makeshift living spaces for the Special Forces team. Scattered about in key locations were fox holes, fighting positions dug into the side of the hill gave the Berets and Rangers an excellent fields of fire.

On the slope facing Alnus, Bowman sat in a half dug observation post with a pair of binoculars while Donavan chopped foliage with his E-tool, the observation post was a hole dug into the slope concealing the bodies of the two Berets. Donavan worked on camouflaging the OP with brambles and bushes by placing them atop the structure. Nearby an American Humvee and a Japanese HMV provided security as the Op was set up.

"Yo sir, take a look at this." Bowman said handing the binoculars to Donavan. "Those guys have been riding around down there for around thirty minutes now."

"Scouts, must have seen us on our way in. I see 'bout a company worth down there." Donavan leaned back and grabbed the radio. "Yōkai actual, Alpha Actual we've got a company worth of Cavalry at the bottom of the hill, requesting permission to engage over."

The radio crackled with static. "Negative Lieutenant, do not fire unless fired upon."

"Fired upon? What the fuck is he talking about." Donavan thought, he had just met the SDF Lieutenant and he was already annoyed with him.

"Sir they're coming up the hill." Bowman said raising his rifle.

"Lieutenant those are enemy scouts, I advise we take them out before they report our position." Donavan replied, the enemy cavalry got closer.

"Fuck they're charging!" Bowman yelled.

"You will hold your fire Lieutenant!"

The Cavalry raised their lances and began picking up speed.

"Fuck it, Chalmers target 700 meters front, open fire!" Donavan yelled to the .50 cal gunner in the Humvee.

Gun fire erupted from the .50 cal sending hot lead down range. A round caught the first rider in the chest tearing apart his heart and lungs. Chalmers swept the gun across the charging enemy, dead men and horses fell to the ground fouling up the riders behind them. The riders attempted to continue their charge, but it was all in vain. The American Humvee cut down the enemy riders, even the Japanese with their Type-62 began to open fire. Soon the enemy was reduced to nothing more than a twisted pile of dead men and horses.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." Bowman said. "You good Chalmers."

Chalmers replied with a thumbs up.

"Fuckin Caesar's boys, what else can I say?" Chalmers replied.

"When we get back I want you to tell Brown and Higgins to move the mark over here. I don't want you guys to unprepared if they make a charge like that again." Donavan ordered climbing out of the OP. The radio began to crackle with the angry voice of Daisuke on the other line.

"Damn it Lieutenant! I told you not to open fire!" Daisuke yelled.

"With all due respect sir, the enemy charged our position with the intent to kill. I believe that falls under ROE." Donavan replied into the receiver. He looked over at the two SDF rangers who were celebrating their small victory. Donavan flashed them a thumbs up, he could hear Daisuke sigh over the radio.

"All right Lieutenant, but next time I give you an order you'll follow it. Out."

"Fuckin Japs." Donavan muttered hanging the transmitter back on the radio.

 **September 20th, 1985, Camp Courtney, Okinawa Japan**

Marines and Soldiers crowded around a TV set, they had come to see if their suspicions were true. On screen was the oval office of the white house, sitting behind the desk was the President of the United States Ronald Reagan. He sat there with his hand folded and a straight look on his face.

"My fellow Americans, as many of you know last month Japan was suddenly and viciously attacked by a force from another world." Reagan started. "Among the thousands of casualties were several marines. They gave their lives defending our embassy, the death of these men and the crimes committed against the Japanese people shall not go unpunished. The Japanese have called out for help and we have answered. We are deploying the 31st Marines Expeditionary Force and First Battalion of the Eighth Cavalry Regiment beyond the Gate to support our ally and bring these butchers to justice." Reagan said to the broadcasting crew. "They eyes of the world are upon you, good luck and God bless."

The men in the room began to cheer, the fight they had been waiting for had finally come.

"God damn, I told you we'd be going through." Allen cheered. "Y'all didn't believe me, but there is your proof."

"We all knew this would happen Al." Rayland replied.

"Really? Cause I specifically remember you sayin' something along the lines of Congress won't let us go to war."

"All right I get it, don't gotta be an asshole."

"Love you too man."

"Fuck off."

"So Lt, when we goin?" Allen asked.

"Best guess is sometime next month, most of the manpower and equipment is already in Japan. The rest of the Battalion will be crossing over a month after us." Nathaniel looked over at his two soldiers, the excitement that was in Allen's eyes earlier had quickly died. "What's wrong Specialist , you wanted go through sense we got here."

"It just dawned on me, because of this deployment I'm gonna miss Anna's birthday."

"Yo don't worry bout it, you can send her somethin' from the SR." Nathaniel replied.

 **October 10th, 1985, Air station Iwakuni, 08:54**

The airfield was silent, only the sound of nervous chatter from remaining soldiers was heard. Early that morning, elements of the 31st MEU and 1st Squadron had been shuttled via aircraft to mainland Japan. A company of marine tanks was already in Tokyo being lead to the staging area. The American task force in comparison to the Japanese Special Task force was small, only two Battalions of Infantry, a company of tanks, and a logistics company would push through first. The plan was to bring in more manpower and equipment after a base of operations had been set up. But that was still up in the air, even after Reagan's declaration of war many back home were opposed to intervention.

In a hangar was the last of the men and equipment awaiting transport to the mainland. Allen leaned against his Rucksack, in his hands he held a relatively new Game and Watch handheld system simply known as Zelda. Members of his squad lingered over his shoulder watching him play.

"Where'd you get that, Specialist ?" James asked.

"Care package from home, Sergeant." Allen replied without looking up from the screen.

"You boys got your gear together?" A series of yes sergeant rang out. "Good." Allen looked up from the game and at his sergeant. Tucked in the band of his PASGT helmet was a condom and a playing card.

"You tryin to get some pussy, Sergeant?" Allen asked with a grin.

"Damn straight I am!"

"Even if it ain't human?"

"You tryin' to pull extra duty Specialist ? I know how much you enjoy that."

"No sergeant." Allen quickly replied. The rumbling of a heavy lift aircraft could be heard in the distance.

"That's our ride boys! Let's go!" James yelled over the roar of an engine, soldiers helped pull their comrades to their feet and put on packs before heading out of the hangar. On the runway a C-130 was being refueled and the ramp had been lowered. The remaining soldiers of the task force were loaded onto the transport bound for Yokosuka naval base and then to Ginza Tokyo, from there they would pass through the Gate in what would become the United States largest military operation in post-Vietnam era America. They were all part of that endeavor, the unproven warriors of a generation, spoiling for a fight and happy that their time had finally come.


	2. Chapter Two: Where You Go, I will Go

**Chapter Two: Where You Go, I Will Go**

 _"Those who say that we're in a time when there are no heroes, they just don't know where to look."_

-Ronald Reagan

 **Out Post Rainier, Special Region**

Sinclair sat in his foxhole looking out over the field of imperial tents, he could see the torches from Imperial patrols as they did their rounds. His once clean BDUs were now caked in mud and grime. Constant rain for the last several weeks had turned the outpost into a mud hole, everywhere the members of the recon unit stepped their feet would sink into the soft ground. Some of the men had already lost their boots to the mud. To make matters worse they had been constantly engaged the moment set up camp, Imperial legionnaires and cavalry had repeatedly assaulted the hill.

The attacks had almost become routine, early morning, charge, repel, regroup, charge again, retreat and repeat the next day. Dead bodies lay thrown about the hill, as the bodies began to pile up a soldier would coin the name Pork Chop hill, but as bad as things got they didn't have it as bad at the Imperial army. When the Empire had gotten word of an enemy incursion they immediately sent more troops to Alnus. The troops at Alnus were collapsing under their own weight, they had outrun their supply lines leaving it susceptible to bandit raids.

What little supplies did make it through were either captured or destroyed by the men on Pork Chop hill. With sanitation at a low and forced to drink unpurified water, dysentery soon ran ramped in the Imperial ranks.

"Lieutenant." A voice called from behind, Sinclair looked over his shoulder and saw one of his Berets standing behind him.

"What is it?"

"Lieutenant Kita wants to see you."

Sinclair groaned "Great, what does the most honorable lieutenant want now?"

"I don't know sir."

Sinclair picked up his rifle and climbed out of the foxhole. "How you holding up S'arnt?"

The Beret sergeant gave a defeated grin.

"Could be better sir, most of the men are down to the bottom of their mags, the mark has a half a belt left and the .50 is out."

"Alright, I'll bring it up the ammo situation with the lieutenant. See if we can requisition some more."

Sinclair trudged off towards the command tent, the wind galed harder and he was pelted with rain. He had to pull on his hood to keep the wind from blowing it off. Sinclair entered the command tent, a space heater placed in the corner kept the tent relatively liveable. Lieutenant Kita stood behind a field desk looking over a grid-map of Alnus and the surrounding area.

The lieutenant glanced up from his maps. "You look like shit Sinclair."

Sinclair grunted. "Could be worse sir."

"Worse?"

"Yeah, try being in Honduras during monsoon season. Rains last for months on end and it's humid as shit." Sinclair walked over to the area heater. "And don't get me started on jungle rot."

"Well, if we're lucky we'll be out of this soup soon enough."

Sinclair glanced over at Kita. "We're running low on ammo." He stated. "My platoon sergeant says we're out of ammo for the fifty, and the Mark 19 is more or less in the same state."

"Don't worry Sinclair we'll be fine."

"Fine? Umm, Sir, you do understand that if they try to come up this hill again we may be overrun."

"Yes I understand that, I called you in here for a reason you know. I just got word from Tokyo command center, today at eleven O'clock Tokyo time "Joint Task Force Phoenix" is making their deployment into the SR."

Donovan couldn't help but roll his eyes. "'Bout' damn time."

"Raiding supplies, repelling enemy charges, scouting their numbers, it's all led up to this lieutenant. You know the music, it's time to dance."

The heavy thudding of rain against canvas slowly began to die down until only silence remained.

 **Ginza Tokyo, October 10 1985, 10:30, Invasion Day**

Japanese flags flapped in the wind along the avenue leading up to the gate. The area had been packed with civilians, many cheered as they sent their soldiers off. A parade hadn't been scheduled but people turned out anyways. The metallic clatter of tank tracks and the engines' whine were insufficient to drown out the excitement of the people. For the Japanese and many of the Americans, this was to be their first deployment. As some cheered others protested also.

Protesting the Gate not being closed, protesting the use of military force, and protesting American presence. The Americans were insulted and blasted, the servicemen responded with apathy, they had been called far worse back home. They were here to do a job, support their ally and avenge the fallen, nothing was to stand in the way of their mission.

Spearheading the task force were M60A1 Rise Patton tanks from the United States Marines Corps. The Patton had been in service with the United States military since the 60's. Sharing features with many of the contemporary main battle tanks of the time, including its counterparts in the Soviet Union.

In 80's the Army had begun to phase out the Patton for what could be considered space age, M1 Abrams. Though its life was coming to an end in the Army the Patton was still in use by the Marines. Following the American tanks was the M60's distant cousin, the Type-74 Nana Yon Shiki, designed back in 1974 the tank was still not in widespread use with defense force, out of the 250 Type-74s in service 64 of them were heading to the special region with more deployments to follow in the next several months.

In comparison, the American Task Force was dwarfed in size with only 2,746 members compared to the three divisions the Japanese were sending. These tanks would be the armored fist that would lead the assault on the region beyond.

Falling in formation behind the tanks were the new M2 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles. Superior in protection, firepower and mobility than its predecessor the M113. The Bradley was a machine made for war, its 20mm auto-cannon, 7.62 coaxial machine gun and tandem TOW launcher proved this. Suffice to say, everyone had expected the new IFVs' first fight to be holding back the Soviet hordes in Europe.

Not fighting medieval forces god knew where.

Accompanying the Bradley's were Japanese Type-73 armored personnel carriers, HMVs and Humvees mounting a variety of weapons. Allen stood in the turret of a Humvee, he wore a full combat set and a pair of shaded goggle covered his eyes as he looked over the mass of civilians. As the unit got closer to the Gate compound he felt a knot grow in his stomach, his first deployment was supposed to be an easy one but none the less he felt nervous almost frightened. He tapped his foot nervously against the steel frame below until he heard a familiar tune, a chorus of voices rang out from portable speakers and Wayward Son began to play. As a guitar began to wail, Allen looked back into the crew compartment to find the source of the music. Sitting next to the driver sat Rayland with a small portable radio next to him.

"Yo, that Kansas? Where the fuck did you get it?"

"Stole the player from some pog up in command. Bitch got some good ass taste."

"That's fuckin bomb."

"Yeah, this is gonna be some smooth sailin'."

Before long the task force had left the crowd of people behind as they entered the compound, within a few minutes the convoy lurched to a halt and infantry began to dismount from their rides. A podium had been set up in front of the Gate and soon an elderly Japanese man with a receding hairline paced across the pavement and stood behind the podium. The man scanned the Task Force, before him stood numerous fresh face and young troops ready for a fight. This was Yasuhiro Nakasone, prime minister of Japan known for his nationalist policies. Yasuhiro glanced down at the speech that had been drafted.

"Men and women of Joint Task Force Phoenix, you are about to embark on a journey that will transcend that of the lunar landings. You will explore and chart out a new world vastly different from our own. We are unsure of what you will encounter beyond the gate, but I believe full heartedly that whatever challenge is laid out before you will emerge triumphant."

Yasuhiro's gaze began to scan over the mass of troops and equipment. "This bill has been adopted thanks to the efforts of the officials from all parties, and now you are ready to set out on the great journey that we have striven for many months. And without further delay, I would like to introduce the commander of the task force, Lieutenant General Hazama." Yasuhiro stepped down from the podium to make way for the aged general.

"Gentlemen, for the past several weeks advanced scouts have been operating in the Special Region. Even though we have a constant flow of information, we still have little idea of what you may encounter beyond the gate. Be ready for a confrontation."

Hazama paused and took a breath before continuing. "You are the tip of the spear, the rock in which the enemy shall break themselves upon. We shall settle for nothing less than total victory." Hazama saluted the Task Force, receiving salutes back, before stepping away from the podium.

Once more engines began to rumble, infantry mounted their vehicles and tanks began to button up. The grinding of steel against concrete began to fill the compound, the blast doors screeched open revealing the marble structure inside. The Patton tanks lumbered forward into the darkness. The men of Bravo Company observed their comrades follow the tanks in, it didn't take long before the radio crackled to life.

"Combat Company, let's move." The company sergeant broadcasted. The Humvees started to roll forward, their tires gripping the asphalt. The inside of the gate had been marked with light reflectors to guide the task force to the exit. Allen gave Rayland a light kick to get his attention.

"What?"

"Yo, look at this." Allen unclipped his flashlight from his shirt and pointed the beam off to the side. The beam illuminated into the abyss until it seemed to disappear.

"What the fuck?"

"How far do you think it goes?"

"I don't know, it's unsettling as fuck." Rayland took a nickel out of his pocket and threw it off into the distance.

"Destruction of US currency is a crime ya know."

"I ain't destroyin' money, just paying the toll."

Rayland took another coin out of his pocket and tossed it into the black, watching it disappear. Allen soon joined in throwing stuff into the void. Soon many of the troops joined in, tossing rocks, coins, bottle caps, paper clips and any odds and ends they could find in their pockets.

"Hey, where do you think this shit goes?" Allen asked. Picking a rock off the Humvee floor he cocked his arm back before chucking the rock off into the void. Seconds later he felt blunt pain strike him in the back of the head.

"Fuck, yo that fuckin' hurt!" Allen yelled punching Rayland in the shoulder.

"Ow! The fuck man, I didn't do shit!"

"Bitch I knew you threw somethin' at me."

"Asswipe! Does it look like I'm in any position to throw shit at you?"

Allen climbed down into the Humvee and picked up what had hit him. He picked up a small rock and looked at it being the same one he had thrown moments before. "Man this shit is fuckin' jank."

"What?"

"The rock I threw, yeah it hit me in the back of the head."

"That's fuckin gnarly man." Rayland replied. A fiendish grin grew on Allen's face, he threw the rock again but this time at an angle. He watched in front of him where a Japanese gunner leaned against the back of an HMV turret. The rock came from the left side of the tunnel and bounced off the side of the HMV with a clang. The Japanese gunner scanned around for a few moments confused before shrugging and going back to keeping a lookout.

Seeing the failed attempt, Rayland handed Allen another rock. "Third time's a charm."

"Right." Allen glanced around for a moment, ensuring nobody was watching before chucking his projectile once more.

Success. This time, the rock made contact with the Gunner hitting the side of his helmet.

The Gunner looked around for what had hit him, behind him, Allen and Rayland were trying not to laugh. Just as the Gunner settled back in, another rock, this time from the right hit his helmet. The Gunner turned around and saw the laughing Americans, he gave them the middle finger which only caused more howling. Moments later, the radio came to life as the lead elements of the task force breached the exit.

"All units be advised, we are closing in on the end of the tunnel. Out." Came the voice of the lead tank.

Allen strained to see the exit, he was thirty minutes behind the lead element but he still made the attempt. In front of him were countless allied tanks and transports. Behind him, countless allied transports, it was then when he realized the massive scale of this operation. When they got word that the lead element had left the gate all joking had stopped. It was back to business and the tense atmosphere returned once more. It was then that strange things began to happen, a few minutes later, the radio came to life.

"Hey, umm, Combat Three, did you say something over channel eight?" One of the company asked asked. James reached for the receiver.

"That's a negative, I've been on the troop net since we came through."

"Well, ahh, switch to eight. We go some weird shit goin' down."

James switched the channel and immediately was bombarded with old static radio transmissions began to come through. A German voice addressed a cheering crowd, and the American soldiers were at a loss for words.

" _There are no other differences between the German and the American people, either territorial or political, which could possibly touch the interests let alone the existence of the U.S.A. There was always a difference of constitution, but that cannot be a reason for hostilities so long as the one state does not try to interfere with the other. America is a Republic, a Democracy, and today is a Republic under strong authoritative leadership. The ocean lies between the two States. The divergences between Capitalist America and Bolshevik Russia, if such conceptions had any truth in them, would be much greater than between America led by a President and Germany led by a Führer._ "

"What the fuck!?" Rayland exclaimed looking over at James. "Is that… German?"

James listened intently to the transmission. "No Fuckin' Way." His voice trailed off.

"Sergeant?"

"That Private, is Adolf Hitler."

"No Shit. Why the hell is Hitler on our channel!?"

"I don't know! Change it to channel seven." James said, Rayland reached down and turned the knob.

" _Yesterday, December Seventh, 1941, a date which will live in infamy, the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan."_

"This is fucking freaky." Rayland shivered.

"Go to channel nine."

Once more Rayland switched channels.

" _We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender"_

"Hitler, F.D.R, Churchill. Alright what the actual fuck?" James said.

"Shit looping around, radio transmissions from the '40s. It's official, we're in the Twilight Zone."

Not daring to explore further with the transmissions, James changed the radio back over to the troop net.

"Alright boys, five minutes. Let's show the Japs how it's done." Nathaniel said over the radio. He was met with a series of "hooah" and "Yes Sir" from his men. Allen pulled back on the action of the MK-19 and rode it forward.

"Let's get this shit show started." He muttered to himself. The Humvees emerged out onto Hill 001, the hill was also known by another name, Alnus. They drove to a position on the right flank and began to dig in. Allen stood poised behind his weapon, in the field ahead he could see hundreds of torches burning, illuminating the enemy camp. Infantry began to dismount from armored personnel carriers and fighting vehicles and began setting up crew served weapons and building fighting positions. The Task Force had arrived under the cover of night and were unopposed as they occupied the hill. More and more men and equipment began to pour through the gate, M163 PIVADs, MIM-72 Chaparrals, and Japanese M42 Duster Anti-aircraft weapons secured the sky for the task force.

"Man, sure are a lot of 'em down there." Allen stated as he scanned the enemy camp with binoculars. "Yo Ray, got any idea how many are down there?"

"Fuck I don't know, couple thousand maybe."

"Word has it they got several divisions at the bottom of the hill." James said as he approached the two Soldiers. The sergeant spat tobacco on the ground before continuing. "Cavalry, Infantry, Dragons, hell they might have a trebuchet or two."

"Oh, so we're fighting the Renaissance Fair." Allen grinned.

James chuckled. "More or less. Just keep an eye on your ammo and make sure you don't let them close the gap."

 **Outpost Rainier, 03:39, Special Region**

"Well, it looks like they're here."

"Hey Lt, come see this."

"What am I lookin' at Bowman?"

"Nine O'clock, imps haven't even moved yet."

"The enemy is gonna be disorganized, guess we did our job." Sinclair leaned back against the edge of foxhole, CAR-15 cradled in his arms. "All we gotta do is sit back and enjoy the fireworks."

"And hope chuckle fuck doesn't come up the hill." Bowman paused for a second. "Again."

"Yeah, again." Several hundred yards in front of the foxhole, hidden by the darkness, lay many imperial dead. Their limbs and armor torn asunder by countless rifle rounds and grenades. The endless rains washed the blood from the hill and the mud seemed to eat the dead where they lay. There was little the Berets could do to aid in the coming battle, they had almost depleted their ammunition and the enemy force would be focused on the main body of the Task Force.

But they came armed with a relatively new technology, a Laser Designator, a machine designed to guide munitions to their target with relative accuracy. Along the line, Sinclair's men began setting up these designators and settled in for the attack.

"Alpha Actual, this is Charlie Six Actual 1-37th Field Artillery, how copy. Over." Sinclair leaned over and picked up the receiver to answer the battery commander.

"Charlie Six, we read you loud and clear, over."

"Alpha, enemy is on the move, we are about to launch a flare and need you to designate targets for copperheads, over."

"Roger, out." Sinclair looked over at Bowman. "Game time. Alright boys, designate siege equipment, targets of opportunity and those big ugly mother fuckers!"

A series of thumps rang out as howitzers launched flares into the night sky. The magnesium in the star shells ignited, casting an eerie glow on the medieval force below.

Spread out along a wide front marched an enemy in the thousands.

From a distance they looked intimidating, shields and swords glistened in the artificial light, beasts lumbered forward eager for the kill, and the cry of war horns filled the early morning sky. But looks were deceiving, what seemed to be a menacing force was nothing more than a sick and malnourished army on the brink of collapse. They were on their last legs, many barely found the strength to walk none the less to fight. Weak and weary, exhausted and hungry, and under the orders 0f overconfident commanders the Imperial legions marched into jaws of the waiting guns. The killbox.

 **Alnus Hill, 04:03, Special Region**

The earth shook as a volley of 155mm rounds exploded from the barrels of M109 howitzers. A mix of high explosive and copperhead rounds landed amid the enemy ranks, the resulting impact sent imperial soldiers flying as shrapnel ripped through their plate armor. One after another, howitzer shells hit the enemy lines and yet they continued to advance up the hill, the fallen being overtaken by those still living. As the Imperial army attempted to close the gap, they were met with rifle rounds from American and Japanese defenders.

Allen fired a burst of 40mm grenades at an Imperial shield wall and watched as they impacted. Soon after an M2 Bradley opened up with its 25mm auto cannon and laid waste to the rest of the formation. Allen looked over to the Bradley, painted on the hull of the IFV was "This Machine". The Bradley raised its TOW launcher and fired, there was a sharp bang followed by the metallic clang of the wire uncoiling, the gunner guiding the missile to target. The missile hit an ogre that had gotten too close for comfort, the resulting explosion evaporated away the chest of the beast. Allen cringed at the grotesque sight before he went back to firing.

"Relentless bastards aren't they!?" Rayland called out as the enemy began to reform ranks. The young Specialist fired his M60 into the Imperial cavalry.

"Hey! Kinda reminds you of the First World War don't it?!"

"What?!" Allen yelled.

"World War One, ya know, the fucking war with cavalry charging a machine gun nest only to get gunned down!"

Rayland paused as he let off another long burst. "Kinda reminds me of that!"

"Only you would make that fuckin' comparison Ray!"

Rayland shrugged before he returned to firing.

 **XXXXX**

The Imperials army repeatedly clashed against the hill, as the battle raged on through night and onto the dawn with the sun began to rise over Alnus hill. It was there and then that the Imperial army saw what they were facing, iron beasts poised their "heads" scanning hunting their prey. Every time the beast caught sight of its prey a thunderous bang sounded, its prey would be turned to red mist. The men armed with black staffs would cast fire that could penetrate the strongest plate armor. The commander of the Imperial legions fighting at Alnus, Titus Co Linus, watched in terror as his troops fell to the enemy. A young Auxiliary ran up to him and knelt down.

"M'lord, Marcus Co Palesti and his legion have fallen! We have lost over half our forces, we can't afford to make another charge up that hill!"

Titus looked down at the Auxiliary, the string of his bow had been cut and his quiver of arrows ran empty. He then looked over at what remains of his men as they formed at the bottom of the hill for another charge.

"We shall take this hill Auxiliary, now return to your legion and rally them for another charge." Titus announced, brushing off what the Auxiliary. The young man looked the commander dead in eyes.

"My lord, I have no legion." He said. Titus could hear the venom in the young man's voice.

"What do you mean, you have no legion?"

"You ordered us up the hill, all 5,000 of us. Only twenty came back down alive." The Auxiliary replied before he turned and sulked away. He had had enough, he was leaving this battle behind and returning home to his family and farm. Titus watched in shock as the young man disappeared, rarely had anyone addressed him in such a manner. He was tempted to draw his sword and strike the simpleton down but decided against it when shouts came from his men.

"What in the name of the gods!" Titus said, the iron beast began to run down the hill towards his men. The brave charged the beast and were cut down by coax fire, while others fled from the vehicles. To the Imperials the beasts had come to eat them, but to the American and Japanese tankers, it was the simple order to advance and end the fight. Titus could only watch in fear as the last of his men began to crumble, the last thing he saw was a glowing red tracer coming towards him.

 **XXXXX**

Atop the hill, Allen and his platoon watched as the tanks dealt the final blow to the enemy. It wasn't long before the roar of main guns and the crackle of MG fire died down, mirroring the end of climax.

"Well, that's that." James said holding his rifle behind his head. "Monroe, get that barrel changed."

"Rah S'arnt."

"Fuckin' Christ." Allen muttered as he looked out over the field of craters and dead. "The hell are they going to do with all the bodies?"

"Mass graves? I honestly don't have a clue." Rayland replied as he snapped a new M60 barrel into place.

"Just… God damn."

"Told you O'Hare, shit ain't pretty."

 **Alnus Hill, Earth Date October 19 1985, 10:45, Special Region**

Several days had passed, the task force had taken Alnus hill and work on a Forward Operating Base had begun. Tents and prefabs dotted the area directly around the gate, further down lay a intricate network of trenches, fox holes and barbed wire acted as the task force's defense while the engineers set about building the base walls. The remains of the Imperial army made a desperate attempt to retake the hill two days after the initial assault but had been turned back and the remnants finally scattered into the wild. The task force had also taken the respite given to them after the battle to bolster their numbers.

Logistics units began to funnel in, along with them came food, water, ammunition, and materials to build the base and airfield. Air power was limited at the time, only a couple dozen attack helicopters had made it through. As time passed, units that were not in the trenches were assigned to building the FOB. Third Platoon had been assigned the duty of escorting supplies to OP Rainier. Kicking up mud along a worn dirt path was a convoy of American vehicles en route to the outpost. Several Humvees escorted HEMTTs and M35 trucks on their supply run.

Allen stood in the turret of the lead Humvee tapping his fingers against the hood of the vehicle matching the beat of Everybody Wants to Rule the World.

"Yo, turn that up." Allen shouted. Rayland gave a thumbs up.

"Sure thing man." Rayland replied turning the volume dial on his radio.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about."

"Yall gonna keep playin' that shit?"

"Hey! No one calls my music shit and gets away with it Mulligan!" Rayland shot back at the black Specialist sitting in the back of the Humvee.

Connor Mulligan shrugged. "Ain't even your music dipshit, if I recall, you stole it from someone."

"So, still mine."

"Yo Al, why do you hang out with this cracka?"

"Who you callin' a cracker Mulligan!"

"You dumbass."

"Fuckin shifty ass nigga."

"See what I'm talkin' about, why you do hang out with this guy?"

"God I don't know. Someone's got to keep him out of trouble." Allen replied.

"Quite a bang up job you're doin' in that regard."

"Fuck off Mull."

"Do you kids ever stop arguing?" James asked from the driver's seat. "I got to deal with kids back home, don't want to deal with them here."

"Alright dad, we'll stop just don't turn the car around."

"You say something O'Hare?"

"No S'arnt."

"Exactly." James said, silences set in for a few minutes as the song continued to play.

"So… Why are they setting up a firebase here? I mean we got plenty of arty back on Alnus." Connor asked breaking the silence.

"Whenever we are attacked Rainier is the first to see the enemy but can't touch them until they are in range of guns of Alnus." James said.

"In other words, we're setting up a firebase so we can hit them twice and if they get close, catch them in a crossfire. Ya know, Active Defense and shit."

"Bingo Rayland."

The convoy continued down the dirt path and into a saddle between two adjacent hills. On a hill in the distance was the form of the fire base, an MG nest facing the saddle, his field of fire covered the valley below. Allen looked at the cargo trucks behind him, some towed Marine M198 Howitzers and their crews rode with them. Others carried vital ammunition for the outpost garrison. The convoy rolled up the hill and into the outpost, their two-hour long trek up to Rainier was over. The outpost had grown since the Special Forces team had occupied the hill three weeks earlier. Several artillery pieces had been set up, and crews worked diligently to dig new gun pits for the rest of the battery that had just arrived.

"That's one hell of a view." Connor said pointing over at defensive structures being built on Alnus. Pork chop hill was higher in elevation than Alnus and many of the other hill in the area. This gave the men on Pork chop a good line of sight on the valleys and hills of the region, this was one of the many reasons why the hill had been chosen for an outpost.

"I've seen better back in Montana."

"You always say that Al."

Allen slid down from the turret and climbed out of the vehicle. "That's 'cause it's true."

"A hill, is a hill is, a hill…." Rayland chimed in from the passenger seat.

"No one asked you Ray."

"Okay, I guess no one loves me."

"You're right about that one." Allen jeered.

"Asshole."

An Officer shuffled up to the three soldiers as they bantered.

"Hey, any you guys got a smoke?" The officer asked in fluent English, they looked over at the officer. He was covered in mud, a short stubble had begun to grow. Connor pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and tossed it to the officer.

"Here."

"Thanks." The officer quipped, taking a cigarette and lit it. He tossed the pack back to Connor.

"Hey no problems Sir."

"How long you guys been up here Sir?" Allen asked.

"Three almost four weeks."

"Damn."

"Yeah, all I want is a hot meal and a sho…"

The officer was interrupted by shouting from the other side of the outpost.

"Contact a kilometer out! Fuck, that's a lot of them." A voice cried out.

"Really? They normally don't attack on Sundays!" Another voiced called out, several of the men laughed and even the Japanese officer cracked a smile.

"No rest for the wicked." The officer sighed before running off across the base. Nathaniel weaved his way around supply trucks and over to the Platoon of soldiers.

"Well we got several divisions heading straight for Alnus, the fire base commander wants us to help secure the center." He said, the roar of howitzers could be heard as the artillery crews began to bombard the enemy force. "Let's go."

 **FOB Alnus Headquarters, Earth Date October 23 1985, 14:56, Special Region**

Four days after the attack on Alnus it was back to business as usual. The attack by the Allied Kingdoms had ended in complete failure, several attempts to take the hill were made. NATO doctrine forced each enemy assault to come in waves. Artillery rained down on them, breaking their ranks and severely weakening the enemy attack. When they had come into sight of Alnus, the first attack had already lost half their strength and was mopped up by Artillery and machine gun fire on Alnus. The Second attack met the same fate as the first.

It was on the third assault that the enemy had wised up. They had learned where the "mages" that had been devastating their forces were located and sent a force to destroy them. Thinking it was an easy task, the Allied Kingdoms carelessly marched up "Pork Chop" hill. They were met with artillery, machine-gun, and rifle fire from the base garrison. The last attack came at night, a sound tactic, but it was no match for the advanced tactics and technology that the Task Force had brought with them. They had been revealed by illumination flares and wiped out by the Task Force, the survivors of the allied army were scattered into the wind. When the battle had concluded, the Special Forces garrison was finally called back to FOB Alnus.

Daisuke walked down the hall of the command post. He had returned and he was ordered to clean up and report to Colonel Naoki Kamo, the commander of the First Combat Unit. Daisuke knocked on the door to the Colonel's office before entering.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Kamo looked up from the papers on his desk. "Ah yes, Lieutenant Kita, marvelous work on Hill 003. The information you fed us during your time there was most helpful."

"My pleasure sir, I feel that my time on Pork Chop hill will make me a better officer."

"Pork Chop hill?" The Colonel asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes sir, that's what the Amer," Daisuke paused for a second. "Excuse me, what we started calling the hill after the first few attacks."

"When did we become you and the Americans? Last time I checked you hated them."

"Well, when you spend four weeks in shit conditions with them you tend to have a change of heart." Daisuke replied.

Kamo let out a hearty laugh. "Well then, you'll have no problem with your next assignment." Kamo stood up and handed Daisuke a file. The lieutenant gave a quick glance over the contents of the file. It was filled with personnel files for Japanese troops, a few of them were Rangers who he had been with on the hill, and others were regular grunts from other units.

"Umm, Sir, what are these?"

"That's your recon team son. Couple rangers, couple regulars, all of them are capable so don't trouble yourself with that."

"You mentioned the Americans?"

"Yes, scouts from the Eighth Cavalry Regiment will assist you. Besides, scouting is in their job description." Kamo sat back down and began to shuffle through more papers. "You'll be looking for cities, towns, trade hubs. Along with that, you'll learn their culture, religion, and economy."

"Consider it done Colonel."

"Alright get to it." Daisuke turned to leave. Before he left Colonel Kamo stopped him. "And Lieutenant, remember this is a Japanese led team, if there is any misconduct it'll reflect badly on us."

"Understood sir."

 **FOB Alnus motor pool, Earth date October 23 1985, 14:30, Special Region**

Combat Company and the JSDF stood around the motor pool, each carried a full combat load listening to the mission briefing. Captain Swanky projected as the men circled around.

"Right, you boys will be accompanying the recon teams. Your mission is pretty simple, find population hubs, reveal enemy positions, make contact with the locals." Swanky said, he looked put out, as he gave the briefing he was slouching and would slur his words. "Each recon team will be accompanied by a rifle squad, any questions?"

"Which team will you be riding with Sir." James asked.

"None of them, I will umm, stay here and umm monitor the operation from HQ."

"Shamming son of a bitch. What a fucking shrink." Allen muttered.

"Did you say something, Specialist?" Swanky snapped.

"No sir, just waiting to get out there."

"Well alright, get to work." Swanky said before sauntering off. The platoons walked off to their respected teams. As the squad made their way over to the first recon team Nathaniel was approached by a Sergeant from one of the mechanized platoons.

"You Lieutenant Wheeler?"

"Yeah."

The Sergeant gave a quick salute. "Staff Sergeant Stephen Pershing, my crew and I have been attached to your squad."

"Glad to have you with us sergeant, we'll take all the help we can get."

Stephen chuckled. "No problem Ell-Tee, if the situation gets hairy just let my Bradley handle it."

"Lot of firepower for a recon team." Connor said.

"No kiddin', two Jap Humvees with fifty cals, Type-82 recon vehicle, two of our Humvees with again two ma deuce and now a Bradley." Allen said. "Not that I'm complainin'. Though I am gonna miss the mark"

"Yeah, as I said. Lot of firepower."

Allen opened the door to the humvee and climbed into the turret. He stood behind the fifty cal, opening the feed tray and made sure the belt was in. He closed the feed tray and pulled back on the charging handle before adjusting the sights. Allen reached into his pants pocket pulled out a cassette tape.

"Hey Ray."

"Yeah."

"Play this." Allen handed the tape down to his friend.

"Where'd you get this?"

"I know a guy."

"Alright hold up a minute." Rayland began to rummage around for his radio. Outside James and Nathaniel stood looking over a terrain map on the hood of the vehicle.

"The route we're taking will take us through a few Imp checkpoints, our main objective is to reach a trade town at the base of the mountains." James said tracing his finger along the described path.

"So a week in the field maybe more."

"We're packing enough for a one week op, we should be good."

"Did you pack extra ammo?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright, we're ready to go." James folded up the map and walked to the other side of the humvee. Right before Nathaniel was about to enter his vehicle, only to be stopped by the leader of Recon Team One.

"Lieutenant."

"Huh."

"Lieutenant Kita, I'm the leader of this team."

"Oh, right. Second Lieutenant Wheeler, my men are ready to go." Nathaniel shook the lieutenant's hand.

"Your men have done this thing before, right?" Daisuke asked.

"Yes sir, they're have been trained for this mission, they've done time on the Fulda Gap." Nathaniel said. " _Well, except for me."_ He thought to himself.

"Right, let's go."

Nathaniel climbed into the passenger seat of his vehicle, the convoy lurched forward, was soon moving on their way. They rolled through the gate and into no man's land.

"Okay here we go." Rayland said inserting the tape into the radio. The song began to play and Rayland looked up at Allen. "Really? Further on up the road? You ain't allowed to choose what to listen to now."

"Fuck you, it's a good song."

 **South of FOB Alnus, Earth date October 24 1985, 07:54, Special Region**

The dawn's warm light spread across the trees and wheat, revealing leaves ablaze in green and gold. Shadows clung to the forest and mist floated through the pines and oak. From the North came a sound, soft like the buzzing of a mosquito but lower in pitch. Then the sound grew louder. A dirt road ran through the wheat fields and connected small farms and homesteads. On the road, two Imperial Children from Coda village pulled their sheep by the reins. The children stopped when they heard the sound and looked North curious to what it was. Farther up the road, a middle-aged man repaired his family's homestead. He heard the sound, lowered his hammer, and looked North, The sound was still growing, though the morning sky remained empty. Continuing up the road, a mother and her daughter carried home produce from the village market across a wooden bridge. The sound clear now, a roaring, frightening wail. On the horizon they appeared, four F-15A Eagles silhouetted against the early morning sky. Hugging the ground, missiles and bombs hung from each plane, their shadows dancing on the ground below. The children scurried to the side of the road as the lead plane burst past at a blurry 915 miles per hour. The children covered their ears as the rest of the planes rocketed past covering the land in noise.

They were fighter-bombers from the Air Force 318th Fighter Squadron. They had arrived in the Special Region a week earlier after the construction of a rudimentary airfield had been completed. At the lead of the flight was Captain John Masson. To his left was a young Air force Academy graduate and wingman, Second Lieutenant Adrian Wallace. To his right was his element leader Lieutenant Robby Fisher, and the element wingman Second Lieutenant Garrett Hawke. Masson smiled as he passed the kids, they had never seen an aircraft before and stared at it in wonder and fear.

"Rudely awaken the locals, check." Wallace laughed.

"Good morning Special Region!" Hawke cheered.

"So, Captain what are we doing again?"

"Interception Fisher, one of the Recon teams called in a Dragon in the AO several hours earlier. We're gonna kill it."

"Or scare it off." Wallace said.

"Or kill it." Masson reaffirmed the order. "We're not playing around with this, apparently the bastard burnt down an entire village and is causing others in the surrounding area to evacuate."

"Wait a minute, how big is this thing?"

"Big enough Wallace."

"Oh, great."

"Hey, cheer up. You have the chance to be the first fighter pilot to shoot down a monster." Fisher joked.

"Kinda like one of them Chinese cartoons?"

"It's called anime dipshit."

"Whatever Hawke."

"Hey, focus! Keep your eyes open, let's just kill this thing and go home."

"Alright captain." Fisher said. The four jets continued their search combing the countryside for the dragon. Masson looked down at the map attached to his flight suit, they had cleared most of their search sector. The only two places to search was the forest that had been burnt down and Roche hill.

"Alright boys, turn fifty degrees west. We're going to check out the last known location of the Dragon."

"Any station this net! Any station this net! This is Recon Three, we are under attack by a, fuck!" A panicked voice was interrupted by a loud bang. "God damn it we need help!"

"Sounds like we found our Dragon." Hawke said, a grin grew behind his oxygen mask.

"Recon Three, this is Hawk flight. What is your location?" Masson asked.

"Roche Hill, we are under attack a Roche Hill. Shit, someone get a rocket on that son of a bitch!"

"Copy that RC Three, we're on our way."

Masson changed the channel. "Light a fire under it boys."

The four jets banked hard to the right and seconds later activated their afterburners. The jets soared through the sky intent on reaching their target. Coming upon Roche hill they pilots could see dust being kicked up and a large crimson dragon attacking refugees.

"Fisher, Hawke, you're on perch. Wallace, we're gonna make the first pass."

"Yes sir." Wallace replied. Two of the jets pitched up and climbed several hundred feet above the others. Masson and Wallace put their jets into a shallow dive, the two pilots loitered over the dragon for several seconds. "Target acquired."

"Engage."

"Three... Two... One. Fox Two!" Wallace called out as an AIM-9M leaped from the wings of his fighter. The missile lanced towards the dragon and made contact, exploded, and knocked the dragon off balance. Seconds later the Eagles on perch made their pass and several more AIM-9s hit the Dragon.


	3. Chapter Three: It's What We Do

**Chapter Three: It's What We Do**

 _"If I see the enemy amassing their planes for an attack, I'm going to knock the shit out of them before they take off the ground."_

 _-General Curtis LeMay_

 **South of Alnus, October 23, 1985, 15,30, Special Region**

 **One day before Dragon attack**

The convoy of American and Japanese vehicles lumbered down an aging Roman style highway. For being built over a hundred years ago, the Imperial road system was impressive.

According to local laborers, thousands of Suwani gold coins had been invested to maintain the highways. The roads were the Empire's life line, they moved its goods, its people, and its military.

This meant they were something that the Task Force would not let the Empire keep.

Further on up the road came the silhouette of several gun trucks. As the convoy closed in, it became clear what was going on. Stretched out on both sides of the road were coils of razor wire. A soldier stood behind an M2 mounted on a humvee, several more were position on each side of the road. A checkpoint.

The lead Humvee began to slow down and before long rolled to a stop at the checkpoint. Nathaniel stepped out of the Humvee and was approached by a Military Police sergeant.

"Evening Sir."

"Sergeant." Nathaniel looked around at the MPs. "How long you guys been out here? I thought we were the first ones going outside the wire."

The sergeant chuckled. "Yeah well, we get that alot. We reconned the route for the next twenty miles, you should be clear up to the river."

"Alright, thank you Sergeant." Nathaniel climbed back into the Humvee.

"Not a problem Sir." The MP turned around and strolled back to his men, he shouted back at the convoy. "You boys stay safe, looks like a storms about to hit!"

 **Alpine Highway, 20:00, Special Region**

Just as the MP had said, a storm had hit and the convoy was forced to stop. Torrential downpours were supposedly common this time of year. A blessing to the farmers who worked the lands, but a hindrance to the First Recon Team. They had pulled of the highway and had stopped at a ruined mission. The ancient stone structure stood like a fortress in the Falmart plains.

Recon Team One took shelter in the decrepit compound, inside Nathaniel, Daisuke, Ayaki, and third platoon's platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Richard Kaiser. Kaiser had the most experience out of all the men present, he had seen combat in Vietnam, Grenada, and even a scrap or two in Honduras. As the men talked, James sauntered over to them with a bottle in his hand.

"Lieutenant Wheeler."

Nathaniel looked up from the fire. "Hmm?"

"Right, so I know this is a dry deployment but," James lifted the bottle of Jack Daniel's. "My wife sent it to me before we deployed. Now we can either drink it now or dump it out. The later, I believe, would be a waste."

Nathaniel eyed the bottle then glanced up at the Staff Sergeant.

"Hand me the bottle." James turned over the bottle. Nathaniel studied the bottle for a few seconds before he broke the wax seal and took a swallow. He passed it back to James who then drank from the bottle before handing it off again. The men around the fire shared the bottle until Allen wandered over to them. He looked at the bottle then over at Kaiser.

"Sergeant, I thought this was a dry deployment?"

"It means you don't drink in the rain dumbass."

The men around the fire burst into laughter at Kaiser's remark, Allen flipped off the group before turning around and walking back towards the main hall of the mission. The floor of the mission was slick with water, rain seeped in from the dilapidated roof. At the end of the hall, Rayland and Connor stood in front of a statue talking.

"I've seen this type of architecture before." Rayland said studying the statues and the design of the surrounding walls.

"Yeah right."

"No I'm serious, I saw this back home. The church I went to back in New Orleans."

"Maybe these guys are Catholic like you?"

"It could be, see this here." Rayland pointed over towards a decorative archway and pillars. "It's of Roman design, and as pointed out before many of the symbols around here resemble that of the Christian religion."

"Get to the point, Ray." Allen said leaning on a pillar.

"What I'm trying to say is that this architecture is incredibly similar to that of the Roman Empire, I say, maybe 450 AD."

"So?" Connor questioned.

"So, how does a world vastly different from our own share the same beliefs and architecture as us?"

"I don't know? Hey, how do you know this shit anyways?"

"Well, I uhh, I wanted to be a teacher, ya know." Rayland replied rubbing the back of his neck.

"No shit? Then why did you go enlist in the army then?"

"Figured if I wanted to teach history I had be on the forefront of it."

"Man, you're a fuckin' nut, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, fuck you too Al."

"It's disconcerting though." Connor said.

"What? Ray wanting to be a teacher?"

"No dipshit. I'm talkin' about this fuckin' building. It obviously took a lot of effort to build it this shit, why just abandoned it?"

"Now that you mention it, the POWs we got back at Alnus. They keep prayin' to some god of war and shit. Makes you wonder."

"Freaky shit bro."

"Yeah freaky shit."

 **Alpine Highway, 06:20, Earth Date October 24th, Special Region**

 **Two hours before Dragon attack**

"Helicopter coming in!"

Daisuke looked up from the grid map and looked at the small black silhouette on the horizon. The rains had come and gone and left a clear blue sky in their wake, now only a few white clouds dotted the sky.

"You expecting a visitor Sir?" Ayaki asked.

"No." Daisuke grabbed his Type-64 and left the mission courtyard. The helicopter came into full view, a Japanese Uh-1H flew in towards the recon team. Within several minutes the helicopter began descend and touched down outside the mission. The door to the huey slid open and the crew chief stepped out followed by a young woman. The two made their way over to lieutenant Kita and his subordinate.

"Special delivery Sir, this one comes straight from the top!" The Chief yelled over the helicopter blades.

"What!?"

"War correspondent! Command assigned her to your team!"

"Why the hell would they do that!"

"Above me sir!" The chief replied before he ran back to the helicopter. Daisuke watched in shock as the helicopter took off and made its way back to Alnus. The higher ups had just thrown a curveball at him, and one he had no idea how to handle. He looked over the young woman, he put her age around 20, her red hair had been tied back and blue eyes looked at him ready for action.

Daisuke sighed before he extended a hand in greeting. "Lieutenant Kita, acting commander of Recon Team One."

"Morning, I'm Lisa Patterson, war correspondent for United Press International."

"Well Miss Patterson, sorry to say but I doubt you'll be seeing much action out here."

"That's quite alright Lieutenant, there's more to being a war correspondent than taking pictures of firefights."

"If you say so."

Kita led the journalist into the compound, every so often she would stop to take pictures of the ancient building or the troops. They walked over towards the Bradley where Nathaniel was talking with his NCOs.

"Hey Lieutenant." Daisuke said walking up behind the American.

"Morning, whatcha need?"

"New addition to the team." Daisuke jabbed his thumb at Lisa. Nathaniel looked over Lisa then back at the lieutenant.

"Civilian?"

"Yep, journalist."

Nathaniel tried to stifle a groan. "Great."

"Great?"

"Media hasn't look too kindly at us the these past years. Especially during Vietnam."

"With all do respect Lieutenant, this isn't Vietnam." Lisa interrupted. "Look I'm not here to slander your men, I'm here to show the people back home the work you're doing here."

Kaiser rolled his eyes. "Haven't heard that one before."

Lisa glared at the platoon sergeant.

"If you say so, we're about to move out. You can ride with Sergeant Smith."

"Thank you lieutenant."

James grabbed his rifle off the hood of the humvee. "Alright boys! Mount up, we got a lot of ground to cover!"

The soldiers grabbed their equipment and began loading into the transports, engines began to roar as the convoy prepared to leave the abandoned mission. Lisa sat in the back of the humvee watching as the soldiers climbed in.

"Yo who's this?" Allen asked.

"Fuck am I supposed to know."

"Watch your mouth Rayland she's a war correspondent." James replied from the driver's seat.

"Sorry miss, ain't used to havin' company."

"It's not a problem, it's Rayland? Right?"

"Yes ma'am. The Irish guy over there is Allen."

"Yo."

"And that shifty fucker over there is Connor."

"Who you callin shifty, nigga?"

"Didn't I just tell you mother fuckers to watch your language?"

Lisa chuckled at the antics of the soldiers. "Pleasure to meet you all."

"Likewise, just keep your head down and make sure you don't get hit by an arrow." Connor chimed in as he climbed into the humvee.

"An arrow is nothing compared to my last assignment."

Allen looked down into the compartment. "If you don't mind me asking, what was your last assignment."

"I was in China, Xinjiang province to be exact."

"The hell is going on in China?"

"Wait, you don't know?"

"News from home don't travel fast here."

Lisa looked around the compartment, the expressions on their faces made it clear that none of them had heard the news. What was happening on the Sino-Russian border had been making headlines for the last week. The stunned journalist composed herself before she replied.

"You know the buildup of Russian and Chinese troops on the Chinese border?"

"Yeah, Rayland wouldn't shut up about it when we were training on Okinawa."

"Haha fuck you asswipe, anyways everybody thought it would blow over like it did back in '62."

"That's right, but this time it didn't. A few days after you guys deployed, the Russians came pouring into the Xinjiang province. I was there covering the initial Soviet attack."

"Jesus Christ." Connor muttered.

"Yeah, when I left it looked like Armageddon."

 **Roche Hill, 08:23, Special Region**

"Target hit."

"Wallace, can you confirm a kill?"

"No Captain, the dust is too thick."

Masson looked down at his hud, two Sidewinders left, after that it was all guns. The veteran captain look past the tip of his wing and down at the dust cloud below. Down there, hidden by the dust, the beast was either dead, torn to shreds by pounds of high explosives. Or it stood ready, preparing to once more assault the recon team.

"Alright, report status." Masson ordered.

"Hawk two, four AMRAAM, three Sidewinders, 5,000 pounds of fuel." Fisher replied, he was followed by Hawke and then Wallace.

"Hawk three, four AMRAAM, three Sidewinders, 5,678 pounds of fuel."

"Hawk Four, four AMRAAM, three Sidewinders, fuel is at 4,900 pounds"

"Good, we'll keep circling. Fisher, Hawke, get back on the perch. Wallace if that bastard rears his ugly head, cap him."

"Understood Captain, on your six." Wallace said, he rolled his aircraft to the right and slid in behind Masson's fighter. The flight circled above the cloud like the birds of prey they were. Wallace looked down to his right, his eyes darted back and forth as he scanned for signs of his prey. Every so often he would move the stick and make minute adjustments to his flight path.

A gust of wind blew the dust away from the impact site. Severely wounded but very much alive stood the flame dragon, it's arm was obliterated, chest torn away by the blast, and legs crippled. The only means to fight back was its head, the dragon looked to the sky where the four birds of war circled. In an act of defiance or as a challenge, the dragon let loose a fearsome roar, the beast began to actively track the jets with its head.

"Bandit is still alive!"

"I see that Fisher!" Masson exclaimed. "No joy! Wallace do you have him!?"

"Tally one captain!"

"Take him!"

"Roger that, committing to attack!" Wallace pulled off and banked hard to the right taking a high G turn. He lined up on the dragon, the beast noticed this and prepared to attack the incoming jet. "Fox two!" Wallace called out.

An AIM-9 missile launched from his wings as the dragon let out a burst of flames, Wallace banked out of the way as the missile traveled at mach two towards the beast. The 20-pound explosive was only seen for a few seconds before it impacted the chest of the beast and detonated. The pilots held their breath but the beast had met its match. It cried out in pain, fell over and let out one final breath.

It took the fighters a second to process what they had accomplished, when it clicked the pilots and the recon team below began to cheer. A legendary creature that had survived for millennia, had spilled the blood of many warriors and innocents, had been defeated in only a matter of minutes. The refugees of Coda village stared in shock and in awe at the sight of the dragon's body. They had survived due to the actions of four pilots.

"God damn boy! How does it feel to be the first fighter pilot to down a mother fuckin' dragon!" Hawke cried out in joy.

"Pretty fucking good!"

"And the Japs think they're the only ones who could fight monsters."

 **XXXXX**

The vehicles of Recon Team Three rolled to a stop. As the dust kicked up by the paveway began to clear, they could see the corpse of the dragon, torn up and scarred. Itami stepped out of the lead vehicle and took a few steps towards the dragon. The radio began to erupt in cheers as both the American and Japanese celebrated their victory.

"Hawk flight, this is RC Three actual. Thank you, you guys really pulled our asses out of the fire there." Itami said into the radio.

"Literally and figuratively."

"RC Three, Hawk one. We're just doin' our job."

"Well, not every day the strike mission includes a dragon."

"New world, new opportunities. I'll see you on the flipside."

The four jets made one more low pass over the body of the dragon before flying back toward Alnus. Men from the recon team stood in front of the corpse taking pictures or prying off scales and pulling teeth for souvenirs.

As the inexperienced Lieutenant watched the jets disappear off into the distance, he remembered the words of the Ranger Captain.

"Ha, guess he was right."

 **Alpine Highway, 10:56, Special Region**

"Jesus Christ, don't you have anything else?"

"Fuck Mul, all you do is complain about my music."

"Cause it fucking sucks! Queen ain't real music."

"You tryin' to start a fight? Killer Queen is top shelf!"

"Fuckin' hell, Al want to get in on this one?"

"Well I enjoy it, I don't see what your problem is."

"Gee thanks for the help."

Allen dropped down into the compartment and looked at Connor.

"Oh wait, I was supposed to belittle him? Why didn't you say so! Hey, Ray your music is shit and you should probably kill yourself."

"I ain't covering yo stupid ass anymore." Connor sneered.

"Much love bro."

A click of a camera was heard as Lisa took a quick picture of the troops.

"Does this happen a lot?"

"Between those two, yeah they argue every other day," Allen said pulling himself back up. "Call it an ideological difference."

"Mul just doesn't like music."

"Shove it."

In response to Connors retort, Rayland dialed up the volume on his radio.

"Hey turn that shit down!" Connor yelled.

"What!? I can't hear you!"

"Asshole."

Kicking up dust in front of the humvee was the Bradley. The turret faced forward and standing in the cupula was Stephen. He scanned the horizon with his binoculars looking for anything be it hostile or a village. Below him in the turret was his gunner Corporal Michael Young, further down in the driver's hole was Specialist Jared Parker.

The Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle was designed in response to the ever growing threat of the Soviet BMP family and the T series tanks. In doing this, mobility and speed, along with the ability to safely transport soldiers across the battlefield, and keep up with the new generation of main battle tanks took priority in the project.

With a 25mm chain gun as a primary weapon, 7.62mm coax, and a mounted TOW missile launcher, the Bradley could effectively eliminate most of what was thrown at it. It's growing list of targets including medieval troops and creatures.

As the Bradley commander scanned the surrounding wheat and rice fields, he heard a voice in his ear."

"Hey sergeant, you see anything?"

"Just a shit ton of nothing, christ this place looks a lot like home."

"Meh, I grew up in New York."

"You're a long way from home Michael."

"Shit Sarge, so are you."

"But I'm not the one getting married."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Means Jody's got your girl by now."

"Shut it Parker. Remember who carried your ass through AIT."

"Never gonna leave that one alone are you Mike?"

"You two always gonna, hold up. Gunner bring the gun around to nine o'clock." Stephen lowered himself down into the turret and closed the hatch behind him. Looking through the commander's sight at what he had spotted. A farmhouse and storage shed had been burned down and people lay dead with arrows in their backs.

"Damn it, the hell happened here?" Jared said looking through the viewport.

"Combat Three, we got somethin' up here."

"This is Three, send it over."

"Well… fuck, we got three dead locals, farmers by the looks of it."

"Bandits?"

"I don't know Sir. Our objective is only a few miles up the road, we can get some answers from town."

"Alright, let's keep moving." Daisuke said. The lieutenant looked over to his subordinate.

"I put my money on the bandits." Ayaki stated.

"Probably, we've been in "Indian country" since yesterday."

"Indian Country?" A young Japanese private asked.

"Somethin' the Americans say, means we're in hostile territory and to keep your eyes open." Daisuke replied.

"Not a big fan of the Americans. Are you private?"

"Can't say I like them being here."

"You think we could pull off an operation of this size on our own?"

"Yes I do Sergeant, we've got the men and equipment. I don't see why we need the Americans here."

"Numbers eh," Daisuke started. "Well let's say this. Without the Americans, we lose their vehicles, air power, and experience. Now to make up for this we pull more men from our Northern divisions, weakening our position in Hokkaido."

"Sir I don't understand."

"Hold on let me finish, so now China sees an opening in our defense and hits Hokkaido and because we pulled from the northern divisions, Hokkaido falls quickly giving the Chinese the beachhead need for an assault on the mainland. We need the Americans with us, I say you get used to it private Ando."

The recon team continued driving, after they had passed the burnt farm and an eerie silence had taken hold. Further up the road, they passed another destroyed farm, and then another one a few minutes later. They were on edge, gunners had become more alert, their eyes scanning for a threat.

They closed in on their objective, the small trading town known as Kester. The town was located at the base of the mountains, due to its location, it became a commonplace for travelers and merchants rest up and prepare for the journey through the mountain pass. As soon as they had come into visual range of the village they saw a terrible sight, Kester had been razed. Buildings chard, luxury items were thrown about the streets, and countless bodies laid in the street.

"What happened here!?" Lisa exclaimed, the convoy came to a halt and the soldiers began to dismount on the adjacent hill overlooking Kester.

 **FOB Alnus Headquarters, 11:38, Special Region**

General Hazama sat behind a desk, his hands folded and elbows resting on the desk. Before him stood the Commander of the American troops in the Special Region, Colonel Eugene Casner of the United States Army. Several other officers, mainly Japanese, also stood in Hazama's office, the General looked up a Colonel Casner.

"So, I take it the Dragon is dead?"

"Yes General, Captain Masson turned in his report thirty minutes ago. His flight engaged and neutralized the bandit at Roche hill, there are no casualties among the recon team so rest easy on that front, the villagers from Coda, on the other hand, took about sixty to eighty dead."

Hazama eyes went wide at the mention of civilians deaths, he could already feel the incoming political storm.

"Eighty dead?"

"Yes sir, if the three eighteenth didn't arrive when they did then the death count would have been a lot higher."

"That doesn't fix that fact that we have eighty dead civilians on our hands!" Hazama yelled slamming his fist on the desk. "When the media finds out about this we're gonna have a fire storm on our hands!"

"General, those deaths were due to situations beyond our control." Colonel Kengun said. "Let history judge us sir, right now there are more pressing issues to deal with."

"What's more pressing than eighty dead civilians." Hazama sighed before leaning back in his chair. "Alright, what's the status of the other teams?"

"Teams Four and Five have made contact with farming villages in plains area. Team Six has been forced to turn back, apparently, the constant rain has caused the river to flood. Team one, well."

"Well what, Colonel Kamo?"

"They've reached their objective, the problem is that it appears to have been attacked."

"Attacked? Attacked by who?"

"Unknown at this General, but whatever it is my boys can handle it." Casner said.

"Alright, I'll leave that issue to you. Now, what about the Green Berets?"

"As of the moment we only have one ODA at our disposal, Green Berets. I talked it over with captain Sinclair and colonel Kamo, both agree that securing the trade city Italica would be in the best interest or the Task Force."

"Alright, get them whatever they need Colonel. Now is there anything else?"

"Yes, within the next few week the Army plans on sending the rest of 1-8 through the gap, that'll bring get us two more tank companies and Fifth Battalion Twentieth Infantry is now up to full strength. Our end goal, God willing, is to see the entirety of First Brigade in the fight."

Hazama nodded. "Good, good."

"Also we're beginning to shuttle in some of our attack helicopters, AH-1s and AH-64s "

"AH-64s? Here? Why is your country sending its newest generations of attack helicopters here?"

"Combat is the surest test General."

 **XXXXX**

Casner left Hazama's office exhausted, he was in a different world but it was the same old shit. Bureaucracy, indecision, politics getting involved, he had a job to do and it did not include getting caught up in Japanese politics. He sauntered off down the hall, in all the job was getting to him. The stress from it all made the middle-aged man look twice his age.

"Christ Colonel, you look like shit."

Casner looked for the sources of the voice, leaning in a door frame to one of the office tributaries was a Marine Lieutenant Colonel.

Casner groaned. "Don't go giving me lip Arnett. I already had to deal with General boot and his goons."

Robert Arnett chuckled before falling in alongside his Army counterpart. "Give the man a break. Remember this is Japan's first combat op since what, like '45."

"Combat Op? We're stuck playing the hearts and minds game all over again. The enemy is that way, the war is that way, let's win this and go home."

"I'm with you on that Casner. But you gotta understand this ain't just a war, there is an entire world out there that we've been tasked to explore."

"Yeah, whole world. How's your marines?"

"Bored, itching for a fight, probably doin' stupid shit. The guys with recon three will be back tomorrow."

Casner chuckled. "Situation normal."

"Yeah, normal. Hey, Colonel, good call with the scramble order. It saved a lot of lives."

"Well, that's what we do."

 **Kester, 12:08, Special Region**

In the ruined streets of Kester, members of the First Recon Team had split into squads and began searching the town. The estimated population of Kester was 500 to 600 civilians with a small town watch. The recon team had yet to find a single living soul, every street they combed, every house they searched, nothing. The town's only occupants was the dead. Allen looked around, he put his hands around his mouth and yelled.

"Hello! Is anyone here!"

"Jesus Al, keep it the fuck down!" Connor hissed slapping Allen's kevlar.

"Fuck, how the hell are we supposed to find anyone."

"He's right O'hare, the cock suckers who did this might still be around." James said looking around.

"Got it. Hey got any historic quips for this one Ray?"

"Take your pick Al. Barbarossa, Lidice, Vietnam, Grenada. Fun time genocide."

"Alright, I get it."

"Definitely Lidice in my opinion."

"We get it man, history is violent."

"You're the one who asked. Damn it's fucking cold."

"You know, I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, in this village I'd get a hot meal, a warm bed, hell a nice elf girl or two. Instead I get a massacre and shit weather." Connor interjected.

"Tought."

"Allen, I'm gonna kick your scrawny white ass."

Allen brought up his M16 as he checked the alley to his right. "You can do that later."

The M16A2 was the most common weapon used by the United States troops in the Special Region. Improving upon the M16A1, the A2 worked out most of the kinks and malfunctions of it predecessor.

"You got anything O'hare?"

"More dead, sergeant." Allen lowered his rifle, he looked at the dead before him. They had died in much the same manner as the others, puncture and slash wounds from swords and spears.

"Let's keep movin'."

"Think anyone else is alive?"

"I don't think, hold up." Rayland raised his machine gun and aimed it towards a narrow alley, something had caught his eye. "We got movement, alley on the left side."

The squad moved like wolves towards the ally, rifles raised ready for the kill. Rayland and James moved into the alley as the rest of the squad covered the street. The alley was located between a general store and an inn and was filled with wooden crates and barrels. There was a shuffle behind one of the barrels, a gray tail stuck out from behind the barrel.

"Jesus Christ Rayland, it's just a fuckin' dog." James said picking up a rock and tossing it at the barrel. The rock clattered against the barrel and a small yelp was heard.

"I don't think dogs scream sergeant." Rayland swung his M60 over his shoulder and pulled out his field guide. He flipped to the section labeled common phrases. "United States Army, we're here to help!"

"Shit boy, how'd you learn that?"

"Well if you actually paid attention in the language class Connor, or at least ready the damn field guide."

"Oh so that's how we talk to NCO's, do I got to add you to my asskicking list?"

"Hey shut it." Rayland snapped, he walked towards the barrel, his field guide still in his hand. "Don't worry, we won't hurt you."

Rayland heard movement behind the barrel, he knelt down and inched closer.

"Yo, be careful Ray. You don't know what's behind there."

"Don't worry Al, I got this covered." He crawled over to the barrel, behind it sat a young girl around the age of six. Her hair was messy, she didn't have any shoes on, and she was covered in blood. As far as Rayland could see she was hadn't been wounded, but somewhere along the line, someone had been killed in close proximity to her. The young girl shook in fear.

"What's down there Moore?"

"A kid Sarge." Rayland looked back at the girl. "Some dog, animal, kid."

"Well get her out here. Johnson, get the Lieutenant on the horn, tell him we got a survivor."

"Yes, sergeant." The RTO replied.

Rayland extended his hand to the girl.

"Come on kid, you're safe now." The girl recoiled a bit when Rayland reached for her. Rayland groaned. "Ok kid, come with me and I'll make sure you get a hot meal.

The girl's wolf ears perked up and the mention of a hot meal. Almost immediately she began moving towards Rayland.

"Finally." Rayland muttered, he stood up and once more extended his hand. This time the girl took it and Rayland lead her out of the alley way.

"Hey Sarge, Lieutenant wants us back in the town square."

"Thanks Johnson. Alright boys, stop playin' grab ass and get moving."

The soldiers spread out across the street, the continued clearing alleyways and buildings as the made their way to the town square. The girl they had found remained at Raylan's side, she grabbed onto his BDU trousers and refused to let go.

"What'd you say to her?" Connor asked falling in beside Rayland.

"Said I'd get her a hot meal. Guess this is her way of holding me to it."

"Man, that's fuckin' child luring."

"Fuck off Mull."

"Yall hear that, the man don't deny bein' a pedo."

Connor's allegations had been just enough to throw the squad into a frenzy. Soon they had all joined in on the insults.

"No luck with ladies, goes for the children."

"Fucking creep."

"That's fuckin' low man."

Rayland chuckled and shook his head. "You want to get in on this Al?"

Allen looked over his shoulder.

"Hey, you do you man, just remember it's a crime."

"Fine fuck you, I hope you get no ass."

"Better than life in prison."

Defeated, Rayland let out a sigh and looked down at the young wolf girl gripping his trousers. The antics of the soldiers had confused her and she looked around for an answer.

"I hope you know the trouble you're putting me through."

 **XXXXX**

It took the better half of an hour for the squad to clear their sector while moving to the Town Square. The town square seemed to act as a marketplace as well, stalls filled the square each carrying unique items. Near a large building towards the end of the square was the rally point of the recon team. Most of the members had already finished their search and were idling about the square.

As Allen walked about the stalls, something caught his eye. Laying in a glass case was a dark blue turquoise necklace. When no one was looking, Allen opened the case and snatched the necklace, shoved it in his pocket and continued walking. The squad approached the rest of the recon team.

"Find something Sir?" James asked cradling his rifle.

"Found out what fuckin' happened to the people who lived here." Nathaniel said shaking a piece of parchment.

"What does it say?"

"Take notice, the people of the trade town of Kester have been deemed guilty in giving aid to the Outlanders from beyond the Gate. Under the order of his divine law and grace, Molt Sol Augustus, has hereby sentenced the people of Kester to death. Let this be a warning to all who oppose the Empire."

"He's killing his own people, to prove a point!"

"Yeah, mother fuckin cock suckers, these people didn't know about us! Hell, they've never even met us."

"What's Kita have to say about this?"

"He's getting in contact with command, he's pissed and wants to hunt the bastards down."

"I'll ask the kid if she knows where the went."

"That's right, the survivor."

"Was there anymore?"

Nathaniel eyes filled with disappointment. "No Sergeant, the girl you found was the only survivor."

"At least we found one."

"Where is she now?"

"Sticking to Private Moore, the kid looks like a lost pup. Is a lost pup."

Lieutenant Kita walked out from behind an HMV and called for Nathaniel.

"Question the girl Sergeant," Nathaniel began to walk towards the lieutenant. "And get back to me on it."

James turned around and paced back over to a humvee. The wolf girl was sitting in the passenger seat as a medic checked her for injuries.

"How she doin' Doc?"

Travis Reed, also known as Doc by almost everybody in his unit, turned around to face James.

"Well, I can't see any physical injuries, besides being a little malnourished she's a picture of health."

"I got that handled." Rayland said walking up to the humvee with an MRE.

"Ah yes, the child lurer returns."

"God damn it Doc, who the hell told you that?"

"Guess."

"It was either fuckin' Al or Mulligan."

"Try both."

"Fuckin', this is the last time I'm bein' charitable."

"You do that Ray."

Rayland began walking away before being stopped by his sergeant.

"Not so fast specialist, I need you to translate."

"Alright Sergeant." Rayland turned around and trudged back to the humvee. He tore open the MRE, he put the MRE pouch and FRH in the bag and added some water. He leaned the meal against his pack before looking over to the girl.

"Your food will be done in a few minutes. While that happens I'm gonna ask you some questions. That alright?" Rayland said in the special region language.

The girl nodded.

"Good."

"Ask her name."

"So kid, you got a name."

The girl stammered a bit before answering. "Lia."

"Alright Lia, do you have a last name?"

"Last name?"

"Yeah, eh umm, family name."

"Demi-humans are not allowed to have a family name." Lia replied. Rayland looked back at his Sergeant.

"She says her name is Lia, apparently animal people don't got last names."

"Ok, ask her is she knows where the men who attacked the village went."

Rayland repeated the question.

"I don't know." Lia replied, she glanced down at the MRE pack.

"She doesn't know Sarge."

James sighed. "Damn, alright let her eat. I'll go break the news to the Lieutenant."

Rayland pulled the MRE pack out of the bag and handed it to Lia along with a fork.

"Dig in kid."

 **Alnus Airbase, Earth Date October 25, 00:12, Special Region**

A lone Black Hawk sat on the tarmac of the makeshift airbase. Several hangars were lined on either side of the runway. Some were completed and housed the coalition jets and helicopters, while others were nothing more than steel frames.

In one of the hangars was a Green Beret ODA, twelve men wearing the local style cloaks, bonnie hats and carrying carbines. The were preparing for an extended intelligence gathering operation. Donavan, now a captain after his actions on Pork Chop hill, stood in front of my men.

"Alright boys, command ain't done with us yet, we're heading to Italica."

"Italica? Like the Spanish city?"

"Can it Higgins. It's a trade city located on two major highways, we get there, we lay low, make some allies, and listen. We're ODA 571, callsign is Pit Viper"

"Ahh, spooky shit."

"Exactly, now we'll be touching down a mile outside the city. You'll infiltrate in groups of two intervals of thirty minutes, rally at the central market place."

"How long we gonna be there sir?"

"Don't know Bowman, could be a couple weeks could be a couple months. However, we'll be resupplied every other week so expect it could be a while. Now load up, let's get this show on the road."

The Berets picked up their packs and trudged over to the waiting helicopter. The helicopter began to spool up and make its distinctive thudding sound. Donavan watched him men climbed into the helicopter, he was the last to step in. The captain patted the pilot on the back, signaling for him to take off.

It didn't take long for them to be airborne and speeding off towards Italica. For the Berets, this was a common mission. Their organization has done this type of mission before in Vietnam, Cambodia, Honduras, and scores of other places. Now the Special Region would be added to their list.

Donavan looked over to his detachments marksman. His name was Janek Láska, a slavic man whose family had slipped past the iron curtain years before to seek political asylum in the west. Though from the Czechoslovakia, his slavic features a dark hair had earned him the nickname Russian. The Beret marksman watched the ground below slip by as he cradled his M14.

"How you doin' Russian?" Donavan asked.

Janek gave a nervous grinned. "Loving life _Kapitán_."

"You still afraid of flying?"

The helicopter shook as it hit some turbulence. Janek instinctively grabbed his seat.

" _Hovno,_ who enjoys begin trapped metal frame several hundred feet above the earth."

One of the crew chiefs raised his hand. "You don't count."

The crew chief shrugged.

"Well, we'll be touching down in about an hour. Get comfortable." Donavan said leaning back in his seat.

The helicopter hit another patch of turbulence shaking the aircraft violently.

"How can you get comfortable in this?"

"Just don't think about man."

"Right, good idea Bowman, problem is the helicopter shakes every two minutes."

"Sucks to be you Russian."

The helicopter passed over countryside with ease, in an area without anti aircraft, it was a pilot's dream. Most of the storm clouds had passed, leaving a clear sky and crisp air. It'd be a perfect night for stargazing if it wasn't for the thudding of helicopter blades.

Within the hour the helicopter had easily covered the ground between Alnus and Italica. The Black Hawk landed in the middle of a wheat field a mile outside of the city. The prop blast from the blades flattened the wheat in the circumference of the helicopter.

"Hey _Kapitán_."

"What."

"First crop circle of the special region."

"Well I'll be damned."

"Shit now we really are aliens to them." Bowman said looking around at the flattened wheat.

"There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity."

"Don't you dare finish that line Higgins!" One of the Berets hissed.

"This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the, ow fuck."

"I told you Higgins."

Higgins picked up the rock that was thrown at him and promptly chucked it back at his comrade.

"Fuck you Mendez."

"Alright, can it." Donavan said pocketing a map. "Italica is a mile to the north of here, I want to get there before day break, let's get moving."

Donavan was met with a series of silent "yes sirs" and nods. In cold of the night, the twelve Berets marched towards Italica.


	4. Chapter Four: In Good Company

**Chapter Four: In Good Company**

" _The men of Normandy had faith that what they were doing was right, faith that they fought for all humanity, faith that a just God would grant them mercy on this beachhead or the next. It was the deep knowledge, and pray to God we have not lost it, that there is a profound moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest"_

 _-Ronald Reagan_

 **Italica, Earth Date October 25, 10:32, Special Region**

"Bro what the fuck are you doing!"

"Give me a second _amigo_."

"We don't got a second Mendez!"

"Calm down Russian, there all done." Sergeant Carlos Mendez said putting the cap on a sharpie marker, he took a step back to inspect his work.

The work in question was a painting of Emperor Molt Sol Augustus that was hanging in the hallway of an inn. Mendez had taken a sharpie and had drawn a crude mustache and beard on the face of the Emperor. At the bottom of the painting he had written the words "I eat dicks". Mendez chuckled before the sound of whistles pierced the air.

"Ok time to go." Mendez said before he continued running down the hall after his team mate.

The two had done as ordered, wait thirty minutes after the first team goes in, infiltrate through the west gate, rally at the market place. They got as far as part two before things took a turn for the worst.

Halfway to the central market place the duo had been stopped a member of the city watch. Everything was going well, until the guard asked for papers. From there everything went to hell, before the guard could detain them the two men had disappeared into the crowd.

The two had taken off into the city to try and shake the city watch. They had cut through market stalls, private homes, and inns. The farther they had ran, the further they were away from the rally point.

"Shit like that Mendez is how they pick up the trail."

"You gotta admit it was kinda funny man."

Janek opened the back door of the inn and slipped into an alleyway.

"Ok it was funny, but it don't help our current situation."

The two Berets slipped into a crowded street and began to make their way back towards the central market. They slowed their pace as to not arouse suspicion, every once in awhile city watch would rush past them.

Mendez kept looking of his shoulder making sure no one was following.

"Christ, calm down kamarád we lost them."

"Bro you start talkin' that soviet shit I'm gonna have to pop you."

"You stop talking fuckin' Spanish then." Janek replied glancing over his shoulder.

"Oh you're walkin' a fine line _puta_."

"What you just call me _otrava_?!"

"Why don't you both shut it."

The two jumped at the suddenness of another English speaker behind them. Walking behind them and wearing similar cloaks was Donavan and Bowman. The barrels of their carbines were barely visible under their cloaks.

Mendez sighed in relief. "Good to see you Captain."

"Likewise."

"Where's the rest of the unit?"

"All here, just waiting on you two Russian."

The hushed voices of the berets died down when members of the city watch passed them. Donavan glanced at the guards when they passed.

"Let's get off the street."

"With you on that Captain." Bowman muttered.

Donavan led them off the streets and into a small inn hidden in a back street. They had step from one shaky situation into another. Sitting at round tables scattered throughout the establishment were mercenaries, brigands, thieves, and black market dealers.

Men willing to turn them in for some quick coin.

At other tables sat the hooded figures of the Beret ODA. Their rifles leaned against the table and within arms reach.

"From one shit storm into another." Janek muttered.

"We'll arouse less suspicion here, get comfortable this is home."

"Alright Captain."

The four sat down at a table with two other berets, across the tavern sat the other six. Donavan leaned in and began talking in a hushed voice.

"Alright, down to brass tax. Yall remember project gamma?"

"Yeah."

"Good, so you know the deal. Make contact, bribe them, make promises, get them to turn coat."

"Who we targeting _Kapitán_?"

Donavan grinned. "Money makes the world go round, we're going after the merchants. They know the supply lines, people in high places, and information. We make contact with them and we'll have the entire damn empire tapped."

Glancing up at the bar, Donavan saw the innkeeper whisper something to a patron just before he left.

" _I wonder if we would have been safer on the streets."_

"Higgins, keep an eye on the innkeep. If he does something that'll give us up, drop him." Donavan said looking away from the man behind the counter.

"You got it boss." Sergeant Patrick Higgins replied letting his New York accent slip out.

"Very important question here Captain."

"Aight Bowman, shoot."

"How the hell we gonna make contact with the merchants? Like we don't got shit to bargain with."

"Find out what they want, we radio back to base, and they get us what they want." Donavan replied once more glancing around the inn. Many of the mercenaries began to take notice of the strange men who had entered the inn and began to talk. By now Donavan began to rethink his plan.

 **Italica Milo Trading Company Headquarters, 11:07, Special Region**

Isaac Marious sat at a heavy oak desk, laid out before him were countless papers and business ledgers. He was prominent member within the Italica Merchant community, owing hundreds of assets across the continent. In recent weeks he had come to control one of the most powerful Trading Companies in the Empire.

Of course their taking command of the company was met with opposition. Many of the merchant who were of noble birth didn't take to kindly to a farm boy becoming the head of the company. In fact they found it downright insulting. Some of the noble merchants jumped ship and joined other companies, whiles others sucked it up and continued with their work.

It wasn't until the week prior that events took a turn for the worst. At night a group of men wearing dark cloaks and masks burned one of the Company's store houses to the ground. Along with that, Milo merchants were beaten in the street and stalls destroyed. This event became known as the Italica Market Wars, a series of conflicts between rival merchant companies vying for control and say of the Italica government.

"We got Darius's goons running around the city burning down our store houses, killing our merchants, getting comfortable with Clan Formal, and now you're telling me that we are losing our caravans to bandit raids?"

The man standing across from Marious nervously answered.

"Y-yes sir."

Marious slammed his fist on the desk. "That's unacceptable!"

"Sir, we're trying our best to retaliate but our hands are tied. Our men are busy fighting Crispin Trading Company in the streets, and the Italica city watch doesn't have the men to deal with the bandits."

"Hire mercenaries then, this Company has stood strong since the founding of Italica. I will not let it collapse under my command."

"Yes sir." The company officer replied, he turned and left the room passing a Demi-Human on the way out.

The Demi-Human, a fox Girl, looked back at the man who had just walked out.

"I think you give the Captain a hard time."

"Sophia, I pay him to guard my assets, in recent days he's failed at his job."

Sophia sat down across from Marious, though only age fifteen she held the third highest position in the Company, she managed the trade caravan on the surface as well as the more shady side of the Company.

"Well at least he is trying."

"Trying is not good enough."

Sophia shrugged. "If you say so boss."

"So why are you here? You only come to me if you need something, well used too. If you want funds go to Lucious, he's the finance officer now."

"Nope, got somethin' for you this time. One of my informants has told me of some… interesting figures who just arrived in town. Right now they're held up in one of our fronts."

"More of Darius's men?"

"That's what I thought, but then I was told that they were carrying the same weapons as the ones used by the outlanders at Alnus."

Marious raised an eyebrow.

"What are you getting at Sophia?"

"I'm saying we might find a friend in these outlanders."

"Kid, you've had some crazy ideas but this one, it just can't be done. You're talking about the men who wiped out the Imperial army in two days and the Allied Army in Four."

"Good thing we ain't the Empire then." Sophia replied with a grin.

"Fine, you have my permission. Just don't do anything rash."

"Don't worry sir, I'll take Alvar with me."

 **Alpine Highway, 14:35, Special Region**

The Vehicles of Recon Team one lumbered down the road, the song _Here I Go Again_ droned on over the platoon net. Early that morning they had left the town of Kester and had made good headway back to Alnus. They had passed by the old missions a few minutes earlier and were now on a straight shot home.

"Three Actual, this is Recon one."

Nathaniel picked up the radio. "This is Three Actual, send it."

"Slight detour, command wants us to provide security for Recon Team Five."

"What the hell for?"

"It seems they picked up a decent sized group of refugees."

"Copy that Recon One, out."

"No rest for the wicked."

"You ever have to do this sort of thing Sergeant Kaiser?"

"If you're talking about recon and convoy escorts then yes I have."

"Well let's get this job over with."

"Amen."

There was silence for a few minutes as the Humvee continued to roll down the highway. Nathaniel pulled out his field guide and began drawing in the corner of the pages. After he a drawn in a couple of pages he flipped through the drawing and watched as two stick figures fought with swords.

 **XXXXX**

Within the several hours the members of the first recon team had finally reached their objective. They had seriously misjudged how far out the fifth recon team would be, or the number of refugees in tow.

Countless horse drawn wagons dotted the road below them, fanned out and stretched thin were the vehicles of the fifth recon team. A couple of HMVs and Humvees, a Type-82 and a LAV-25. Thoe the recon team had Japanese members didn't mean they were lead by them. Recon Team Five was lead by Marines.

The M2 Bradley "This Machine" once more took point for first recon. Stephen looked through the commander sight switching between the different zoom variables.

"Twelve O'clock, there they are Mike."

"Yeah I see 'em sergeant, fuck that's a lot of wagons."

"Keep an eye on the horizon, whatever it is that drove these people from their homes must've been big." Stephen said.

"Huh? Yo sarge, three o'clock top of the hill, that what I think it is?" Michael asked.

Stephen once more leaned in and looked through the commander's sight. Just visible at the top of the hill was the profile of an M60s commander's cupola.

"Well shit, big brother's watching."

"What?"

"Nothing Parker. Keep driving."

Jared shrugged before focusing back on driving. Several seconds later Lieutenant Kita's voice crackled over the radio.

"Weasel Three, this is Recon one actual. Stay here and provide overwatch."

"Copy that Actual, we got your back." Stephen replied. The Bradley lurched to a stop near the crest of the hill, making sure that only the turret was visible.

Stephen looked through the commander's sight again, he watched as one of the Marine M60s crest the hill, scanned the countryside with its turret before backing off the hill. The bradley's traversed right and faced the crest of another hill, there sat another two M60 tanks.

"What's got them so spooked they sent tanks?"

Stephen looked over at his gunner. "I don't know."

At the bottom of the hill the rest of Recon one closed in on the wagon train. The train was more or less moving at a snail's pace, the task force vehicles that flaked the wagons moved at a walking pace. The countless horses and wagons kicked up a dust cloud in their wake.

The lead HMV of Recon one lumbered to a halt alongside one of the Marine vehicles. Lieutenant Kita stepped out of the passenger seat and surveyed his surroundings before making his way over to one the rifleman standing next to the road.

"Private."

The young marine turned around to see who had called to him.

"Yeah."

"Where's your commanding officer?"

"Front of the column." The marine replied turning back to monitor the wagon train.

Daisuke turned around to face his own men who had begun to dismount. He singled out the turret gunner of an American humvee.

"You, Specialist fifty cal."

"It's O'Hare Sir."

"Whatever, run to the front of the column and tell the leader of Recon Five to get over here."

Allen mumbled to himself as he slid down from the turret and left the humvee. As soon as he cleared the door he took off running towards the front of the wagon train, his M16 bouncing against his shoulder as he ran. As he neared the front of the wagon train he saw an officer and several NCOs standing around a humvee, Allen slowed his pace and approached the officer.

"Sorry to interrupt sir." Allen started, the Marine Captain looked up from his map.

"What do you need Specialist?"

"Lieutenant Kita from recon one wants to talk to you."

The captain raised a brow. "He had you run all the way up here for that?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright, you go back there and tell that fish head of a bitch, to carry his Jap ass up here if he wants to talk. Use those exact words or I'll kick your ass Specialist."

Allen smiled. "Understood Captain.

He turned around and sprinted back towards his own unit, Allen took note of the people in the column, they were nothing more than farmers and villagers from the surrounding towns. It didn't take long for the Specialist to meet up with his unit, Allen trudged over to Daisuke.

"Sir, the commander of Recon Five said to tell you to carry your Jap ass up there if you want to talk, his words not mine."

A look of shock appeared on Daisuke's face, the men around him began to laugh at the bluntness of the message. It took a second for Daisuke to compose himself, he adjusted the strap on his rifle and cleared his throat.

"Well then, better not keep him waiting then."

Daisuke sauntered off towards the front of the wagon train with several of his men trailing behind him. Lieutenant Wheeler approached Allen, the expression on his face showed that he was anything but pleased.

"O'Hare."

"Yes sir?" Allen replied with a grin.

"Don't ever do that again, it's one thing to insult an officer behind his back and another to do it to his face."

The grin disappeared from Allen's face. "I understand Lieutenant, but as I said those were not my word."

"That's no excuse Specialist, you chose to say it, ultimately the blame falls on you not the captain of Recon Team Five. Now get back to your squad, tell Sergeant Smith to take a Humvee recon the rear of column I want to know what's chasing these guys."

"Yes sir." Allen replied turning to run back to his vehicle.

"And tell Mulligan to stop complaining every time Monroe plays a song." Nathaniel shouted, Allen turned around and gave a thumbs up his grin returning.

Nathaniel watched as Allen returned to his unit before following behind Daisuke and his men who by now were a considerable distance ahead of him. He glanced over at the refugees, he knew who or whatever had done this had to have been something big in order to drive off this many people. But whatever it was, if it decided to go after these people, it was in for one hell of a beat down.

It didn't take long for him to meet up with the leader of recon five. The marine captain was speaking with Daisuke when Nathaniel walked up.

"We've got a LAV, couple of Humvees, couple of HMVs and that thing y'all claim is a commander vehicle. Now our ace in the hole if a platoon of Patton's courtesy of the Second Tank Battalion, Delta Co. Now that's more than enough to fend off an attack, the problem is that we don't got enough men to over our blind spot."

Daisuke rubbed the back of his neck. "You want us to plug the gaps?"

"Exactly." The captain glanced over at Nathaniel and extended a hand. "Captain Frank Walker."

Nathaniel shook the captain's hand. "Second Lieutenant Nathaniel Wheeler. We got a Bradley on overwatch a couple hundred meters back and I sent scouts to make sure you're not being followed."

"Good, have the Bradley coordinate with the tanks. I need a couple of your vehicles to take up the rear and others to scout ahead."

"Consider it done Captain." Daisuke replied.

"One more thing Captain, do you know what drove these people away?" Nathanael asked.

Walker shrugged. "Tried questioning these people and all I get are mixed reports, some say anywhere from a company to an entire damn legion of Imperial soldiers, others say it's the northern tribal warriors."

"So we're fighting Romans and Huns?"

 **XXXXX**

Allen leaned against the M2 browning in front of him as he scanned the horizon for movement. Down below, Connor and Rayland were once more arguing about music, this time however it was Allen's cassette tape that had caused it. Amarillo by Morning played softly over the radio almost being drowned out by the arguing scouts.

"You're hopeless, you don't like rock, you don't like country, what the hell do you like?"

"Yo, I like country just not George Strait." Mulligan replied to Raylands attack.

"Shit boy, now we getin' somewhere. Now I for one don't like it but you don't see me throwin' a fit."

"Yeah whatever, fuckin child toucher."

"Eh, fuck you!"

James shook his head and chuckled as he continued driving.

"Hey, you see anything O'Hare?"

"Nothin' yet sarge. You know, it just dawned on me. They sent four guys with two machine guns to go pick a fight with what is presumably a much larger force."

"That's NATO boy, tell me when you get somethin'."

"Roger that Sarge."

Rayland pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his blouse pocket, he tapped the pack against his hand until a loose cigarette came out. He the cigarette in his mouth and lit it, he shook the empty pack before throwing it out the window.

"Shit."

Mulligan looked away from the window and over to his friend. "Huh?"

"Out of cigarettes."

"Go ask Doc Reed, he always finds a way to scrounge somethin' up."

Allen looked down into the compartment.

"Hey Sarge."

"Yeah."

"Shouldn't we be worried 'bout our medic being able to procure well everything?"

"As long as he ain't tradin' dope for it I see no problem, hell it even comes in handy. Ask that boy to find you a book he'll get you a copy and three others like it."

"Yo he's like fuckin' Radar, give him a chance and he'll smuggle a Humvee home."

Allen laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it, he's been-" Allen stopped mid sentence and looked over the horizon, something had caught his attention.

He lifted his goggles of his face and rested them on his helmet. He brought up his binoculars and gazed through them, scanning the horizon he had caught side of an imperial force.

"Fuck, contact front! Looks like about two companies worth of infantry!"

"Range?!" James yelled back stopping the humvee on the crest of a small rise.

"Hold on, 2,400 yards and closing. I don't think they know were here."

"Yeah, but they know the convoy came through here." Rayland replied jumping out of the humvee, he kicked out the bi-pod on his M60 and set up on the ground before racking a round into the chamber. Rayland was quickly followed by Connor who by now was kneeling down next to him and aiming down the sights of his rifle.

James grabbed the radio out of the humvee.

"Recon one actual, this is Combat Three Bravo. We've got eyes on the pursuing force, going the rate you are they'll be on top of you within an hour or two."

"Copy that seven, you're clear to engage. We're sending support your way. Out."

James put the receiver back in the humvee.

"O'Hare, fire free."

Allen pulled back on the charging handle and let his slide forward with a clang. Within a few seconds of the order Allen had ranged the target and began firing in bursts. The rounds from the fifty cal slammed into the front rank of imperial soldiers knocking down the first few soldiers in the ranks. James looked up at Allen who continued to fire in bursts then back over at the advancing enemy, he called up to Allen trying to get his attention.

"Hey!"

Allen continued to fire.

"Hey!" James called again waving his arms.

"Huh!?" Allen replied between bursts.

"It's a machine gun!"

Allen let loose another burst.

"What!?"

"A machine gun!"

"Oh, Ok!"

Allen settled in behind the M2 before releasing a barrage of fifty caliber rounds. Instead of three or four soldiers falling down, this time they fell like bowling pins. The enemy scattered looking for any amount of cover they could get to in time. The rounds from the M2 kicked up clods of dirt and tore limbs. The ambush was working in the favor of the scouts, until an ominous click sounded from the Browning.

"Ah shit!"

"What's going on O'Hare?" James asked walking over to the Humvee.

"Stoppage Sarge."

Allen pulled the charging handle back before sliding it forward again, Allen fired and got another click.

"You gotta be kidding be!"

The enemy began to reform and continue their march towards the scouts and the wagon train.

"Clear that jam O'Hare, Monroe you're up."

"On it."

Immediately, the lighter more rapid sound of 7.62 rounds took the place of the silent fifty cal. Connor tapped Raylands helmet and pointed off towards an enemy unit moving on the scouts.

"Yo Ray, get those sons a bitches on the right!"

Rayland shifted his field of fire and laid into the enemy soldiers. One by one the soldiers fell.

"Alright, eleven O'clock we got more of them moving up!"

"Yeah I see them!"

Once more a string of tracers lept from the barrel of Rayland's gun. Rayland continued to suppress the advancing imperials constantly shifting his field of fire. He heard Allen yell something but couldn't quite make it out, immediately after Rayland heard the heavy thumping of the fifty cal and watched as red tracers flew over head.

Rayland stopped firing for a second and yelled over his shoulder. "Took you long enough!"

With the fifty back up and running along Rayland picking off the stragglers, the enemy formation quickly collapsed. The four scouts watched as the remaining Imperial soldiers retreated back across the field.

"Jesus Christ." Allen muttered. "Do these bastards ever learn? Every time they fight us they go home with more than a bloody nose."

"Hell if I know." James responded as two Humvees drove up behind them. The two vehicles rolled to a stop several meters away from the scouts, several marines disembarked one of the Humvees while Sergeant Kaiser, Travis, Lisa along with some others from Recon one hopped out of the other.

Kaiser paced over to James. "Smith, what happened?"

"Few hundred Imps came over the hill, O'Hare and Moore laid into them with the Ma deuce and the Sixty, forced them to fall back, nothin' we couldn't handle Top."

Kaiser looked over the torn up fields littered with dead imperials. Near by Lisa was snapping pictures of the battlefield and the soldiers that held the ground.

"Nothing you couldn't handle." Kaiser replied. "We'll that's one problem off our hands."

 **Alnus Airbase, 15:49, Special Region**

Captain Masson leaned against the steel frame of one of the many hangars constructed at Alnus. The airbase no longer housed just the pilots and aircraft of the One Thirty Six. Japanese and American helicopter units also called the base home. The newest addition to the airfield were a squadron of F-4 Phantom II's from the Third Air Wing.

Masson watched as one of the Japanese F-4s touched down on the fresh tarmac. He lit up a cigarette as he watched the pilot climbed down the side of the craft. He was so fixated on the F-4 that he didn't notice Wallace walking up behind him.

"Sir."

"Huh? Yeah, whatcha need?"

"Major wants your testimony on the Recon Three incident. Seems like it's already causing quite the stir back earthside." Wallace said.

Masson continued to watch as the Phantom was towed back into its hangar.

"Sir?"

"Yeah I heard ya." Masson replied turning around and trudged off towards the command post with Wallace right on his heels.

"So what do you think?"

"'Bout what Ensign?"

"The Jap fighters, they're still using those old F-4s." Wallace said matching pace with his CO.

"Phantom's a reliable bird and in the hands of a good pilot an excellent fighter."

"You speak from experience?"

Masson exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Yep, when I was assigned to Twelfth flying missions over Vietnam."

"You shoot anyone down?" Wallace asked.

"Yes."

"How many?"

At this point Masson began to get annoyed.

"Jesus kid, do you want my service record?"

"No sir, I'm just curious."

Masson sighed.

"I shot down two, both MiG 21's."

The walked in silence as they approached the command post, a prefab building with a sheet metal roof, nothing as fancy as what ground pounders had at the top of the hill. Masson pulled open the door and walked down the hall towards the Major's office. Masson knocked on the door and was immediately met with a reply.

"Come in."

Masson and Wallace entered the room, standing around a desk were Hawke, Fisher, Major Warner the commander of the American fighters in the Special region, and a two Japanese men wearing neat black suits.

"Captain Masson, I'll get straight to the point. These two men are from the Japanese ministry of Justice, they are investigating the Roche hill incident and would like to question you and your flight."

Masson cast a suspicious glance at the two men.

"Alright, what do you need." Masson answered. One of the Japanese men began to speak.

"It'll only take a minute Captain. Now first could you tell us what happened?"

Masson raised an eyebrow.

"I assume you've read the report?"

"We have, we just want to confirm it with you."

" _Shifty Nip bastard."_

"We sortied at zero six forty heading south, at zero seven fifty nine we got the call from recon three that they needed help, at full burn we arrived at Roche at zero eight fifteen and quickly engaged. Wallace and I made the first pass attacking with anti tank missiles followed by a pass by Hawke and Fisher using the same ordinance." Masson said before being interrupted by one of the men.

"And that's when the dragon went down, correct?"

"No sir, we waited for the dust to clear so we could get a visual, ends up the dragon survived the first attack. Wallace had the target and followed up with a paveway bomb taking out the target."

"Captain Masson, the task force had killed dragons with little effort before. Why did this one require four high end fighters?"

"Well sir, this one dwarfed the others by a metric fuck ton and burned villages as a hobby."

The other pilots chuckled at the remark, even Major Warner could help but smile.

"And Recon Team Three, did they do all they could to defend the refugees?"

"You would have to bring that up with the leader of Recon Three."

The man looked at his partner before turning to Major Warner.

"We're done here." The man said pacing out into the hall.

The men in the room waited until the Japanese investigators left the building.

"I don't think they like us." Fisher said

"Yeah well they from the party that didn't want us to go through the gate in the first place, let alone have Americans here." Warner said sitting down behind his desk.

"This going to come back on us major?"

"No Wallace it won't, they're too busy trying to through their own guys under the bus to worry about us."

 **Italica, 18:59, Special Region**

Sophia stood outside the tavern with a band of hired mercenaries clustered around her. She had come with business proposition and mostly peaceful intentions, if the outsiders threatened her or her company her men would make quick work of them in the close quarters environment. Besides they had the homefield advantage. To the everyday citizen or passerby the tavern was a place in which mercenaries, thugs, or travelers who didn't want to be found took refuge. In reality however it was a front for one of the largest smuggling operations in the Empire.

Ten years back the Empire had been trading with a small Island nation and vassal state to the far east of the continent. The Island nation, known as the Kingdom of Luumus, navy had been the primary protector of the Empire's trade routes in the east sea area. After a long and costly war fighting pirates and rival nations the Luumus had run out food, ships, and lives. One night, a Luumus General with support of many in the military and the civilian populace overthrew their king.

The coup was a success and Luumus quickly declared its independence from the Empire. To add insult to injury, Luumus had cut off all trade to the Empire, no longer did goods travel between the two nations. This situation had left the Merchant elite in both countries in a bind. The former guild master of Milo trading on the other hand saw the profit in the situation. Meeting with merchants from Luumus who were also hurting from the recent embargo, he was able to hammer out a deal and twelve smuggling routes were opened.

The goods that made it through were then sold at a way higher price on the black market almost four times the price. The back alley tavern was a front for the Luumus goods that made it into Italica. The outsiders had unknowingly taken refuge in snakes nest.

One of the mercenaries, a giant of a man named Alvar, stood near Sophia. Alvar was a veteran of the Imperial military having seen combat in many of the Empire recent expansion wars. He even went on to commanding his own company before he left the Imperial army. After several months of traveling and odd jobs the old legionary had found himself employed to the young beast girl standing next to him.

"The men who probed the area beforehand have said the outsiders won't be expecting us." Alvar said in his typical rough and commanding voice.

"Good, then we have little to worry about." Sophia replied before pacing toward the entrance of the tavern.

"Your carelessness and arrogance will get you killed kid."

"You say something Alvar?"

"You should exercise caution kid."

"Weren't you the one who said they're not expecting us? We'll be fine."

Alvar's words weren't unfounded, on a rooftop overlooking alley Janek had sat laid there motionless for the last several hours. He had covered himself with a cut up burlap sacks, only a small part of his rifle and scope could be seen. Janek had first alerted his comrades when he saw several men wearing cloaks and armed with short swords case the area. He radioed Donavan and within seconds the ODA had racked rounds into their weapons and prepared to repel an attack.

"Kapitán, unknown is about to enter the building. Young girl, maybe fourteen, fifteen years old."

"Copy that Russian, anyone else preparing to enter."

"Yes sir, big son of a bitch, bodyguard maybe."

"Maybe they want to talk?"

"Or maybe they want to gut us."

Janek adjusted his scope, lining up crosshairs of his M-14 up with the heart of one of the mercenaries.

"Russian, think positive."

"I am positive Mendez, positive that I can drop this guy."

"Focus Janek, keep me updated."

"Yes Kapitán, the two are just talking right now." Janek replied shifting his rifle back up to the two at the door. The girl had opened the door and walked in with the man following close behind them. "Well sir, they just entered the building."

"Yeah no shit. Higgin's tell them we come in peace."

Janek once more took aim at one of the mercenaries as he listened to his commander on the radio.

"She wants us to do what?... Forget it… I don't care if she won't take no for answer, unless she knows the address of the great leader, what he eats for breakfast, and when he goes for his nice little strolls in the park, the answer is no!… You tellin' me she does know… she's got information on many of the nobles, what is she fuckin' Stasi?... A merchant?... Alright fine, favors for favors, we protect your assets you give us intel… It's a deal."

A few minutes passed before Janek got back on the radio,

"You didn't forget about me Kapitán? Right?"

"Stay up there Janek, I don't quite trust our new." Donavan stopped to find the right words. "Partners."

"Understood." Janek shifted in his spot getting ready for another several uncomfortable hours.

 **Alpine Highway, 22:46, Special Region**

Countless fires light up the area around the Alpine highway. The refugees had bedded down for the night as their new found guardians watched over them. Near one of the many fires, Allen sat with a notebook and pencil in hand. In his note book he had begun sketching a comic, something he had picked up during his first deployment in Germany. The comic was of two cartoon soldier dressed in BDUs and toting around and M16s standing next to a person with dog ears and tail. One of the soldier gave the the beast person a chocolate bar while his buddy asked a question Allen had heard countless time since they picked up Lia in Kester.

" _Does chocolate kill dog people?"_

The two cartoon soldiers soon got their answer in the next frame when the dog person fell over with its tongue sticking out and x eyes. One of the cartoon soldiers turned to his buddy and replied.

" _Yep."_

Allen heard the click of a camera and the winding of film, he turned his head to see Lisa standing over him.

"What you doing Specialist?"

"Drawing."

"Anything in particular."

Allen shook his. "Nah, not really."

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Knock yourself out." Allen replied handing the notebook to the war correspondent.

Lisa looked at Allen most recent drawings before flipping back through to the beginning. After a few minutes of reading and plenty of confused looks and genuine laughter, Lisa closed the notebook.

"You mind if I send some of these back to HQ?"

"Huh?"

"Get a couple of them published in UPI news paper, give the readers more of an idea of how you guys think."

"Appreciate the thought ma'am, but a few crude comics ain't gonna help the public understand us." Allen replied.

"Still, I want to see them published." Lisa insisted, Allen shrugged.

"Alright, do what you want."

Lisa snapped a few pictures of the comics.

"Thanks Specialist."

"Yeah whatever."


	5. Interlude: Homefront

**AN: So I had found an old letter my dad had written to my mom, my siblings and I when he was in Iraq back in 2003 and felt inspired to write a short interlude chapter. It's not terribly long and I wrote it over the course of an hour and late at night so yeah. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Interlude: The Home Front**

 **University of Washington, October 29 1985, United States**

In the back row of a lecture hall, Adam sat half listening to a lecture on geopolitics. In his hands was a newspaper that a friend of his had picked up earlier that day. The first few pages didn't interest him, all they talked about was the conflict in China. Over the last several days the Soviet Union had penetrated twenty miles into China before being halted by several divisions from the Chinese army. The battlefield became reminiscent of 1953 when the Chinese and Americans squared off on the Korean peninsula.

The article that did interest him however was located towards the back of the paper. The name of the article, Mapping the Special Region, was printed in bolded letters. Under it was a picture of American and Japanese troops in front of a Bradley, some standing and some kneeling. In the caption it said "First Reconnaissance Team"and listed the names of the soldiers left to right by rows, Adam scanned the names until he came upon a familiar name.

Allen O'Hare.

His brother was kneeling in the front row wearing his woodland BDUs and helmet, an M16 slung over his shoulder. Adam recognized another name, Connor Mulligan, his brother's friend from basic training. The rest of the names he didn't recognize, he hadn't cared enough to listen to his brother's stories. Adam continued down the page reading the article apparently written by a correspondent who had been embedded with the team.

He read the quotes from the soldiers there, the stories they had to tell.

" _If the recruiter had told me I'd be fighting dragons and orcs, I'd tell him he's full of shit."_

" _Williams had gotten out of the fox hole to take a piss when all of a sudden, **fffip SMACK!** And Williams just start screamin' like a banshee, or course I was worried so I yelled "Willy you alright". And he replies, "I got a fuckin' arrow in my ass."_

" _Kester, Kester is when I saw what we were fighting for. Out of all the death and carnage we found one survivor, a kid, it's for her we fight, so that we don't have to see another Kester. It's as President Reagan said, The United States have an obligation to its citizens and to the people of the world, never to let those who would destroy freedom dictate the future course of life on this planet."_

As Adam read he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. Pride. Pride in his nation, pride in his military, pride in his brother.

 **O'Hare homestead, 09:45, October 30 1985, United States**

On the dining room table in the O'Hare homestead, a tan package and a letter of a similar color sat unopened. The package had been addressed to Anna O'Hare, the letter to Dawson O'Hare. Anna sat across the table looking at the package, for a few minutes she sat there staring at it before reaching for the package.

She undid the wrapping and exposed a handcrafted box inside. Anna admired the intricate design. Gold swirls stood out against the polished mahogany. She undid the small metal latch and opened the lid. Inside lay a turquoise necklace and a small folded note. Ignoring the gemstone necklace, Anna picked up the note and quickly unfolded it.

 _ **Dear Anna**_

 _ **Happy birthday, I'm sorry I couldn't make it.**_

 _ **Your Brother**_

 _ **Allen**_

Anna smiled, she took the necklace out of the box and put it on. She heard the door open then close and the clunk of cowboy boots on the wood floor. Her father entered the dining room, his eyes were heavy with sleep and he let out a long, drawn out yawn. He was wearing the brown uniform of the local Sheriff's office, a bronze seven point star pinned to his chest, and a M1911 hung on his belt. Dawson looked at his daughter then the box on the table.

"What's that?"

"Mail of Allen." Anna replied smiling, life seemed to return to her father's eyes.

Dawson sat down across from his daughter and grabbed the letter.

"That from your Brother?" He asked as he fumbled with the letter.

"Uhuh."

"Looks good on you."

Dawson tore open the top of the letter and pulled out the piece of notebook paper that was in side. He unfolded it and began to read aloud.

"Dear Father. I've finally found some time to write, they've been running us ragged these past few weeks, building the FOB, escorting supplies, and up to now running recon. I got to tell you, this new world looks a lot like home, flat plains give way to rolling hills and eventually snow capped mountains. I miss Montana."

Dawson paused to take a breath.

"We've just got finished up a five day mission in the field, it had it's ups and downs, but the platoon made a new friend. We found a girl about the age of six, her village was well massacred by the men who were supposed to protect her. She's in our care now. We're doing good out here, just a few days ago we rescued a group of refugees who were being threatened by the Imperial Army, and we have secured the roads between some of the neighboring town making it safe for them to trade and travel. Our road will be long and hard, but I have faith in my comrades and allies, and I have faith in God. Tell Mom and Anna that I said hi and that I love them. And dad, I'm proud to be your son. Love, Allen."

Dawson wiped a tear from his eye before laying the letter down on the table. He looked up at Anna who had a smile on her face. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Dawson reread his son's letter over and over again memorizing each word. Anna broke the silence.

"Hey dad."

"Yeah."

"How was work."

"Same as always, all quiet on the western front." Dawson replied. He hadn't exactly be truthful, in reality he had to deal with several domestic violence calls and petty cattle disputes, combined with an twelve hour shift it was a long day.

"Still be careful out there."

"You should worry about your brother, he's the one who thinks standing toe to toe with the Ruskies and exploring new worlds is a career."

"If I remember correctly, you're the one joined the Marines fought the Vietnamese and called it a career."

"Now don't get snarky with me girl."

Anna chuckled. Dawson yawned and stood up.

"I think I'll get some sleep." Dawson said laying the letter on the table and trudging off towards the stairs, the words of his son still in his mind.


	6. Chapter Five: Toujours Prêt

**Chapter Five: Toujours Prêt**

" _Do what is right, not what you think high headquarters wants or what you think will make you look good."_

 _General Norman Schwarzkopf_

 **FOB Alnus, Earth Date November 4, 12:54, Special Region**

Captain Kita made his through the FOB dipping and ducking out of the way of men going about their work. He had just finished up a meeting with Colonel Kamo, and the Colonel had praised him on his work in the field and how he had saved the refugees.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Daisuke tried to explain to Kamo that it was not the Japanese who had saved the civilians but the Americans. Kamo had brushed it off and went on talking, they were being sent on another mission. This time they were acting as security for some bullshit trade mission. The First Recon Team would be shadowing the Third Recon Team as they traveled to Italica. In short Daisuke wasn't happy, he believed his team would be better off making another attempt to recon the mountains.

But orders were orders and he had an obligation to carry them out. He walked to the motor pool where the men of third platoon were doing maintenance on their Humvees. Allen had field striped an M2 and was cleaning it having no intention of repeating the mishap that had happened a few days ago. Other platoon members were performing similar checks on the humvees and mounted weapons.

"Sergeant."

"Whatcha need sir?" James replied as he reattached an M2 to a pintle mount.

"Where's Wheeler?"

"Ell-tee? He's over there."

James pointed over at one of the other Humvees.

"Alright, thanks."

Daisuke walked towards the humvee where Wheeler and Kaiser stood over a map.

"Lieutenant Wheeler, can I talk to your for a second?"

Nathaniel looked over at Daisuke.

"If it's about this next op, I've already heard. You know if we're getting any support out there?"

Daisuke was a little taken aback; word traveled faster than he had expected.

"They're pulling squads from the other recon teams, you'll have your entire platoon this time.."

"Alright, any air assets?"

Daisuke shook his head.

"Not on this one, they're holding them for something else."

"Fuck." Nathaniel cursed.

"You got to understand, this mission is low on the priority list."

"Fine, we'll make do with what we got."

The two officers were interrupted when Born in the USA began playing over the radio. The men of Charlie platoon immediately began to sing along, if it could be called singing. Nathaniel couldn't help but laugh at the antics of his men. This continued on for the majority of the song. Rayland became the star of the show when he stood on the hood of a Humvee and pretended a wrench was a microphone. The moment was short lived, an eerie laugh echoed through the motor pool and the men stopped what they were doing to look for the origin of the laugh.

"My my, what do we have here?"

The voice came from Rory Mercury, the supposed death apostle that Recon Three had picked up during their time in the field. Though she had been around them for a week, she already spoke english. The men of Combat Company found it hard to believe that she was a demi-goddess, but the constant prayers and attention she got from the refugees seemed to say otherwise. Just her halberd enough was enough to set off mental sirens. In truth Rory put them on edge, especially Kaiser, who had done his time in Vietnam.

"Some sort of festivity?" Rory asked in her normal cocksure voice.

"The hell are you doing here?" Rayland asked hopping down from the Humvee.

"So rude, is this how you always treat your guests?"

Kaiser stepped forward and discreetly cocked the hammer back on his M9.

"No one invited you." He said, Rory turned her attention to the senior NCO.

"Is that a killing intent I sense? Don't be alarmed, I only wanted to see the warriors that so many of the peasants talk about. Besides we have a lot in common."

"Kid, I'm going to ask this as nicely as I possibly can. Get the fuck out of my motor pool."

Rory's mood changed drastically, her arrogant smile disappeared and was replaced with a look of rage.

"Kid? I'll have you know that I am the Apostle of Emroy, the God of darkness, war and death. I've lived for 900 hundred years and know death all too well."

Kaiser was unphased.

"I'm just a Sergeant in United States Army, but I have spent four years in Vietnam. Try me kid."

Once more the apostles mood changed further baffling the platoon.

"What a strange group," Rory began to laugh. "You humans are much different than Itami and his men. I have to say, I'm intrigued."

"Well you can carry yo intrigued ass outa here." Mulligan said.

"But there is so much more we could learn from each other, it could be a very beneficial relationship." Rory looked around at the platoon, her eyes settled on Lia standing next to Rayland, trying to hide behind him. She walked across the Motor pool and knelt in front of the young wolf girl.

"Don't worry young one, your parents are with Emroy."

Rayland put himself between Rory and Lia.

"It's time you leave."

Rory stood up and was about to reply when she saw the cross hanging around Rayland's neck.

"I'll take my leave." She said. The Apostle turned around and left the motor pool.

"That's who we're escorting?" Nathaniel asked as he watched Rory leave.

"Unfortunately, yes." Daisuke replied. "If we're lucky she'll continue hanging around the leader of Recon One."

"Yeah, pray to god she'll leave us the fuck alone."

 **Italica, 12:47, Special Region**

Donavan walked through the halls of the Milo trading company headquarters. His CAR-15 hung loosely at his side and he carried his boonie cover in one hand. By now many of the merchants and workers had gotten used to the presence of the Berets, besides all they knew is that they were more of Sophia's "Mercenaries". The Beret captain turned a corner and continued down the hall. He stopped in front of a heavy oak door and knocked.

"Come in."

Donavan opened the door and walked into the office. Sitting at a low table was Sophia and Isaac, who he had only talked to a couple of times. The last person was a young woman with an unnatural shade of red hair.

"Captain, let me introduce you to Princess Pina Co Lada, daughter of the Emperor. Princess, this is Captain Donavan Sinclair, he is helping us with some of our… Security problems." Sophia said.

Donavan was surprised to see an Imperial noble all the way out here and talking to his contact. He took a mental note of the Princess, since he had to report this to command later.

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Likewise Captain." Pina replied suspiciously.

"Did you have something to report captain?" Isaac asked.

"Yes, we have reports of a sizeable bandit army in the area. I believe these are the same bandits attacking your caravans."

"Thank you captain, I'll take that into account."

"If I may captain, do you think these bandits pose a threat to Italica?" Pina asked showing genuine concern.

Donavan looked at the people gathered in the room.

"Ma'am I believe that…"

Donavan was interrupted by the loud banging of bells from the city church. Bowman rushed into the room CAR-15 in hand.

"Sir, you're going to want to see this!"

Donavan unslung his carbine and followed Bowan out of the room with Pina right on his heels. Halfway down the hall another woman in armor joined the group.

"Princess, what's going on!?"

"I don't know Hamilton."

The group rushed out of the building and into the streets, Donavan didn't bother putting his cloak on as he ran towards the city wall. He pushed past panicked civilians and climbed the battlements of Italica. There Janek stood looking through the scope of his rifle.

"What do you see Janek?"

"Several companies of infantry, catapults, ladders, everything needed for a siege."

"Did you radio command?"

"I tried, but communication had been spotty these last few days." Higgins said, fiddling with his radio.

Pina watched the exchange between the strange men, unable to understand what they were saying.

"Captain, what is happening?"

Donavan turned to look at Pina.

"Here's your answer Princess." Donavan replied before turning to face his men. "Keep trying to raise command, I want three men on each wall. Janek, Mendez stick with me."

While Donavan was giving orders, Pina had been barking orders of her own.

"Hamilton, find Norma and Grey and bring them to me." Pina then turned to the guard captain standing next to her. "Muster the city guard and prepare to repel."

 **FOB ALNUS, 13:56, Special Region**

Several Type-74 main battle tanks sat lined up in the Alnus motor pool. The crew of one of the tanks lounged about on their vehicles taking advantage of the down time. The Japanese tank commander had begun to doze off but was startled by the rumbling an armored vehicle coming down the road. He brushed it off as another Type-74 or maybe a Marine M60 and once more about to head to sleep.

"Uhhh sergeant, check this out." The gunner said.

The commander grumbled. "This better be… Holy shit."

Before him was a tank he had never seen before. It was squat and angular, the front slope almost completely horizontal and the lower plate slipped down under the tank. An armored box with a glass panel lay to left of what he assumed was the commander's cupola. An M2 Browning was mounted on a swivel mount and behind it a man wearing a comm helmet had a yellow bandanna pulled up over his nose. Next to him, another man doing the same stood behind a pintle mounted m240. Two smoke launchers located on either side of the turret popped out like ears, and two radio antennas hung on the rear of the turret.

It looked like it walked right out of a sci-fi movie.

If the locals though that the Type 74s and M60s were beasts, they damn sure would think that this tank was.

Four more tanks of the same green, tan, black and grey camouflage desgin followed behind. The lead tank stopped and the Commander and Loader pushed themselves out of their positions and climbdown the tank. They proceeded to help guide the driver back into his bay. After a few minutes all tanks had been parked in their slots and soon engines began to shut down. The first M1 Abrams had arrived in the Special Region.

 **XXXXX**

Private Lance Dupont opened the hatch to drivers hole, putting an arm behind his head and stretched. He let out a yawn before shaking his head trying to wake himself up. He ran a hand through his black hair, and looked around his station. A picture of his girlfriend, a beautiful brunette he had met in highschool, was tapped to the interior.

"Incoming!"

Lance looked up to see his friend and gunner, Corporal Emil Hepner, standing above him holding to cylindrical bottles. He dropped one into the driver's hole and Lance caught it with both hands. He looked at the bottle, Cherry Coke, a new type of cola that had hit the market that year. He pushed himself out of the driver's hole and sat on the front slope of his tank. He untucked his dog tags and fumbled with them til he found the bottle opener he had attached. He popped open his bottle and did the same for Emil.

He took a drink before looking over at his friend.

"Thanks man."

"'Ey anytime."

Lance heard the sound of steel toed boots above him, his tank commander Sergeant First Class Taylor Cain, and loader Specialist Austin Dunn. The two men sat down on the edge of the turret holding both holding cokes of their own.

"Hey Top." Lance said using Taylor's nickname. Taylor, and tall man with greying brown hair and olive eyes look down at Lance. Both men were holders of cavalry spurs, Lance had earned his by reciting Fiddlers Green and going through a series mental and physical challenges. Taylor on the other hand got his spurs back in 1972 while acting as the gunner of an M48 in Vietnam. He was eighteen years old back then.

Taylor took a drink of his soda and watched as an M88 rolled by.

"Notice how the Japs been stairin' at us this whole time?" Taylor asked glancing at the crew of a Type-74, his Georgian accent slipping out.

"Yeah, kinda don't blame 'em. Like shit, looks like we just walked out of a comic book." Austin replied, Lance threw his bottlecap at Austin.

"Feels like we're in a comic book."

Austin replied to the bottle cap with a light kick to the back of Lance's head.

Lance looked up at the barrel of the Abrams, on the bore evac someone had painted the name _Gypsy Wagon_ on it. According to Taylor, the name was given to the tank by his old TC after they had been retrained on the Abrams. Down the line the other tanks had names of their own, _Challenger_ , _Hey What's That Sound_ , and finally _Wild Ride._

"Anytime y'all are done with your picnic."

The crew looked over at their platoon commander, Second Lieutenant Daniel Rossette. The rest of the crews began to dismount their vehicles, grabbing their duffle bags out of bustle racks. They followed their platoon leader out of the motor pool preparing for a long stay in the Special Region.

 **Italica West Wall, 20:00, Special Region**

Donavan kept low as he ran along the wall his shadow danced along the ground below. Hundred of torches lit up Italica's walls, earlier that day the enemy had hit Italica in mass. Donavan had taken command of the city guard on the west wall for a short time after their captain had fallen, during that time an arrow had come a little too close for comfort. He made his way onto the north wall and up to his radio operator.

"Higgins, any luck?"

"No sir, we might be out of range, may be weather, I don't know."

"Keep trying."

Once more Donavan stood up and ran back to the west wall. There Pina and Grey stood in the gate house talking about their next move. Hamilton was sitting near the edge of the wall leaning back against a parapet, next to her Janek knelt down looking through the scope of his rifle. The czech marksman proved valuable in the previous fight being able to take out catapult and battering ram crews.

"Janek, get some rest. We're gonna need you when they come back."

"I'm good _Kapitán_."

"Janek, sleep, now."

Janek begrudgingly stood up, slung his rifle over his shoulder and leaned against a parapet. Donavan trudged over to a table that had been brought up, Pina and Grey looked at him then back down at a map of the city.

"We lost a fourth of the city guard in the first attack, we won't be able to keep up with these losses." Grey said.

"Can we organize a militia?"

"We can princess, but even then we'll be outnumbered ten to one." Grey replied. "An untrained force and a dwindling guard, we sure are in for a long siege."

"Fucking Alamo." Donavan muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, just reminded of a similar battle."

Pina looked over a Donavan.

"Captain Sinclair, I saw how you and your men fought today and it's obvious that you are part of that force that came through the gate. Right now I don't care about that, that fight is between you and the empire. But the people of Italica are innocent, and I need your help protecting them."

"Ma'am we're doing what we can, but I'm not sure there is much more that we can do."

"But you destroyed the Imperial and Allied armies at Alnus, why can't you do it here?!" Pina exclaimed.

"At Alnus we had ten thousand men and great weapons of war. Here we have twelve, at some point we'll be overran."

"There must be something you can do!"

"We've been trying to contact our base but we're not getting through. Until such time we can contact them we must hold."

Pina backed away from the table looking more than a little distraught. She trudged off towards the stairs.

"I must inform the Countess."

Donavan adjusted his carbine and lit up a cigarette.

"I'll go with you, better we get this all knocked out in one blow." He said, he took a drag on cigarette and let out a cloud of smoke.

He followed the princess down and off the battlements and into town. Homes and storefronts were barricaded and the wounded and exhausted from the previous engagement occupied either side of the street. Donavan had seen this before in Honduras, the Nicaraguans had attacked Honduras as punishment from helping the Contra fighters. The resulting conflict had lead to some of the fiercest jungle fighting since Vietnam.

The two climbed the hill up to the estate that looked over Italica. The main gate was guarded by some of the countess's maids. Donavan glanced over at the maids, he didn't know what freaked him out more, the fact that he was in a different world, or the animalistic features of the maids. The maids let them in with no fuss and bowed as they passed by. Donavan and Pina walked into the front door of the mansion. They were escorted by one of the maids who lead them through the maze of hallways and stairs. Walking through the mansion Donavan couldn't help but marvel at how elaborate it was. Hell of a lot better than his house back in Detroit.

But that's what he thought wherever he went.

The climbed one more flight of stair and were lead to a set of large doors. The maid pushed them open and lead the two inside. The room was some sort of meeting hall or multipurpose room, at the opposite end of the room a kid around the age of eleven sat in an elegant chair.

"Countess Myui, as you may already know Italica is under siege. I've sent a rider out get my order, they should be here within a day." Pina said.

The young countess looked up, it wasn't hard to tell that she was exhausted. She had stayed up this late eager to hear what the state of her dominion.

"Thank you Princess I am grateful." Myui then looked over at the stranger standing before her. "And who is this."

"Ma'am, my name is Donavan Sinclair. I'm with the United States Army and I am aiding Princess Pina with the defense of Italica."

"United States?"

"Yes it's a country very far from here."

Donavan looked over at Pina who was giving him the stink eye. He returned a look that said.

" _I ain't lying."_

"I trust that you have come in good faith."

"We have no intention of conquering your land if that is what you are asking."

"Well then I have nothing to fear, I appreciate both of you risking your lives for Italica. I'm sure with brave warriors like you defending our walls Italica will not fall."

 **FOB ALNUS, Earth Date November 7 1985, 05:30, Special Region**

"Yo Lance."

"Uhhh."

"Come on bro get up, we gotta go."

"What time is it?"

"Early."

"Ten more minutes."

"Ten more minutes my ass, get the fuck outta bed!" Emil yelled flipping Lance's cot over. Lance tumbled to the floor still wrapped in his sleeping bag and landed hard on his arm.

"God damn it! What the fuck Hepner!"

"Hey I tried asking nicely."

Lance scrambled for his watch and picked it up as Emil flipped on the overhead light.

"Ahh! Come man it's fuckin' zero five thirty three! We don't SP til zero eight, why the hell we up so damn early?"

"Last minute assignment." Emile slipped on an olive drab flak vest over his BDU blouse.

"We're acting as security for some sort of trade mission."

Lance slipped into his BDUs and put on his boots grabbing his belt and flak vest before following his friend out of the barracks. The sun was still behind the mountains, a dim light illuminated the sky and a few stars could be seen. Lance shivered from the cool morning air, he quickly remedied the problem by rolling down his sleeves. He threw on his flak vest and belt as he followed Emil through the base, it was quiet most of the task force was still asleep. The driver pulled out his M9 and checked to see if a round was in the chamber before holstering it.

The two tankers walked to the motor pool, there it was a little more lively. Men moved about mounting weapons and equipment on humvees, he noticed the patch of the First Cavalry on the uniforms of some of the soldiers.

" _Honor and Courage!"_ Lance called out pointing to his First Cavalry patch.

He saw a couple of the men grin, they were from his sister company. Combat Company 1-8. They had spent time together on the Fulda Gap and German-Czech border.

" _Mustangs!"_ One of the men from Combat called out.

"Ahh you made a friend."

"Shut up Hepner."

Emil chuckled, the two of them eventually reached their platoon. Already the men were hard at work getting everything prepped for the mission. Austin stuck his head out of the loaders hatch and looked over at Lance.

"Morning sleeping beauty."

"Dunn a simple good morning would have worked."

"Hey come on Dupont, if it makes you feel any better I had push Hepner out of his rack."

"It don't."

"Huh?" Austin replied.

"He flipped over my cot with me in it."

Austin and Taylor burst out laughing. "Christ almighty boy that must have been one hell of a fall." Taylor howled from atop the turret. Lance began to climb up the front slope to get to the drivers hole.

"Don't get comfortable Dupont I don't think I can flip a tank." Emil said as he lowered himself down into the turret.

"Haha very funny." Lance replied putting on his comm helmet. In front of him Taylor made a circling motion with his hand signaling him to start the engine. He started the engine and he heard it start humming to life. Down the line the other Abrams began to do the same. The platoon commander's tank, _Challenger_ , rolled out in front of them followed by _Wild Ride_ and _Hey What's That Sound_. Taylor and Austin guided Lance out before climbing the tank and getting into their respective positions.

 **Appia Highway, 07:34, Special Region**

Itami shifted in his seat as he tried to get comfortable as he stared out the window at another passing hill. They had been on the road for three hours now, every once in awhile an American patrol or checkpoint would break up the monotonous view. By now the Task Force had brought their entire force to bear, Jets soared through the sky and tanks prowled the earth below.

Advanced communication had given the Task Force a competitive edge and they were able to secure a vast amount of land in the course of a month. Some areas however were out of radio range and the Task Force had to rely on helicopters to carry messages to recon teams out of range. This technology had not been lost on a young mage, Lelei La Lalena. The inquisitive girl would watch radio operators of hours on end studying their every move, trying to learn everything she could.

Itami looked in the rearview mirror at the convoy stretched out behind them. Seven American humvees, four Japanese HMVs and Type-82 command vehicles and a last minute attachment of four M1IP Abrams from Bravo Company made up the convoy. The two Bradley's that had accompanied them were living up to their title as recon vehicles as they scouted ahead. Once in awhile Itami would hear the radio traffic between the Americans.

"Combat Three, Combat 2-4. Radio check over."

"Four, we hear you loud and clear. See anything up there?"

"Whole lotta nothing sir."

"Copy that, Three out."

Silence remained for a few seconds before one of Itami's fellow SDF members began to speak.

"So what do you think Italica is like Lieutenant?" Kurata asked. "Think we'll finally find a catgirl?"

"That all you think about Sergeant."

"You got no room to talk sir."

Itami was about to refute Kurata but was interrupted when the airway was filled with the sound of rock music.

"~Risin' up! Back on the street did my time took my chances.~"

"God damn it Rayland! Don't you fuckin' dare!"

"~Went the distance now I'm back on my feet, just a man and his will to survive.~"

"Bro fuckin' stop."

"~So many time it happens too fast, you change your passion for glory. Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them alive!~"

"Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare!"

"It's the eye of the, Ow fuck! The hell you hit me for Mul?"

"You know damn well why asshole!"

"I'm gettin' sick of you being a fuckin' music nazi."

"Y'all done down there?"

"Can it Al!"

"Aight chill Mulligan?"

Itami couldn't help but to laugh along with the convoy. Lieutenant Wheeler's voice then sounded over the radio.

"Charlie Three Two, Charlie Three Actual."

"This is Two. Send it." An annoyed James replied.

"Kaiser wants you to tell your boys to 'Shut the fuck up' Over"

"Copy that Actual. Hey, Sergeant Kaiser says you three need to shut the fuck up."

"Ok dad." O'Hare piped up.

"Don't make me pull this convoy over boy."

"Sorry Sergeant."

Itami looked out the window just in time to see a sign that read "Warning now entering Indian territory". They were now past the Task Force's sphere of influence, out here caravans and travelers were still hunted and harassed by bandits. The song that had been playing just a few minutes ago had ended and silence once more settled over the convoy. Fifty cal gunners pivoted in place scanning the horizon for potential threats.

 **XXXXX**

Over the next few hours the convoy traveled in silence, sometimes there would be a burst of small talk or a joke, but for the most part it was quite. The sun hung high in sky as the convoy made headway. In the back of Itami's HMV, Kuwahara was trying to explain how radios work to Lelei.

"You hold this down." Kuwahara said holding down the transmitter then releasing it. "When you hold it down it sends out a wave on a frequency that is captured by a receiver on another radio tuned to the same frequency. Understand?"

Lelei who already had a decent understanding of both Japanese and English, nodded her head.

"Next thing we know, Kuwahara is going to teach how to call in an airstrike." Kurata joked.

Lelei cocked her head.

"Airstrike?"

"Umm yeah, it's when our steel birds drop fire from the sky." Itami said.

"Oh, you mean the jet fighters?"

Itami looked behind him.

"Yeah, who taught you to say that?"

"I met their riders, the ones that killed the dragon." Lelei explained.

The conversation was interrupted when one of the bradley's reported in.

"Umm, Combat Tree Actual, Combat 2-4. We got smoke on the horizon."

Copy that Scout one, do you see the cause?" Nathaniel replied.

"That's a negative Actual."

"Recon Three Actual you've got command of this mission, how do you want to handle this?"

Itami felt his stomach churn, he didn't like being put on the spot and he could feel the eyes of soldiers in his vehicles on him. To gain favor with the Americans and to get out of the spotlight he quickly deflected the question back to Nathaniel.

"How would you handle it Lieutenant."

Silence for a few seconds.

"Have the Bradley's get eyes on then report the situation back to us."

"Combat 2-4, Recon Three actual. Advance and get eyes on the situation."

"Copy that, Scouts out."

The convoy ground to a halt as they waited for the scouts report. Several minutes later the radio crackled to life.

"Recon Three, we got eyes on. Looks like some travelers got ambushed, two burning wagons, several hostiles armed with swords and axes."

"Any survivors?"

"Negative."

"Damn it." Kuwahara cursed.

"2-4, you have permission to take out the bandits." Itami said.

"Copy that."

Seconds later the convoy heard the dull thump of 25mm autocannons being fired, as soon as it began it stopped.

"Target destroyed."

 **Appia Highway 30 miles out from Italica, 12:29, Special Region**

Allen held his M2 steady as his Humvee hit a dip in the road, he had pulled his cavalry scarf up over his nose and put on his goggles in an attempt to keep the dust kicked up by the convoy out of his face. He had been standing for over five hours and was beginning to tire, he tried kicking himself to stay awake. As he did he felt his spurs brush his leg, he had earned the gold spurs after the First Battle of Alnus Hill and they had arrived a few days ago along with a certificate of indoctrination into the knight like "Order of the Spur".

The Order of the Spur was one of the cavalry's oldest traditions. One only earned their spurs by going through a series of challenges, winning their silver spurs, or seeing combat as part of a cavalry troop, earning their gold spurs. Though Allen was welcome into the order and was proud of his spurs, he felt as if he didn't deserve them. Men like Kaiser and Smith had earned theirs by surviving the hellish conditions of Vietnam and Grenada. Allen had earned his by killing pseudo Romans. He had not been the only one to earn his spurs, in fact most of his Troop had earned their spurs.

As the convoy crest the hill the could see smoke on the horizon, the column was taller and denser than the one they had seen earlier.

"Hey Sarge, you seeing this?" Allen called down into the crew compartment.

"Yeah I see it, I think that is where Italica is."

The radio began to crackle to life, a mix of war cries, clashing steel and gunfire was heard in the background as a panicked voice began to speak.

"To any Task Force units, this is Green Beret ODA 571. We are surrounded and under attack!" The voice was interrupted by a stream of gunfire. "We need assistance, we're held up at Italica!"

Immediately Daisuke replied to the radio operator.

"This is Recon Team One en route to Italica, approaching Italica from the east. ETA twenty minutes."

"Oh thank god, copy that Recon Team One, we'll hold."

The convoy didn't have to be ordered, heading full speed they raced off towards Italica. The Abrams effortlessly kept pace with the Humvees, Allen had a hard time keeping the browning straight as they dashed through the special region country side. He turned his attention to the Abrams that had matched speed next to them, no matter how many bumps and dips it hit it's gun still remained oriented in the same direction. In what seemed like an eternity they had finally reached the outskirts of Italica. The Abrams peeled off and took up overwatch position with the Bradleys on a Hill overlooking Italica. It remained clear that they did not know who held the town.

"ODA, Recon One. We're outside the east gate, do you copy?"

Several seconds passed.

"ODA, Recon One. We're outside the east gate, do you copy?"

"Recon One, we're opening the gate hold on."

In front of them the heavy wood and steel doors of Italica's east gate were pushed open by men wearing woodland BDU's. Allen breathed a sigh of relief as he saw more Berets appear on the wall above them, they held the city for another day. The convoy began moving again and passed through the gates of Italica, they parked in a semicircle in the courtyard. As other cav troopers and Japanese defense force soldiers began to dismount, the gunner remained in their positions scanning the ever growing crowd of locals.

 **XXXXX**

Hamilton stood a step behind Pina as the two knights watched the steel wagons as they came through the gate. It was an awe inspiring yet terrifying sight, the rumbling of the steel wagons died down as men began to climb out of them. Pina followed Donavan as he made his way to the man in charge of the wagons. Hamilton stayed behind, she was still in a state of shock. Her eyes settle on one of the men standing behind a large black ballista. A yellow scarf covered his face, a thick black visor covered his eyes and a green, tan and brown helmet covered his head and ears. He reminded her of the way the northern horse tribes dressed. Overall the man intimidated her, the man turned his head and looked at her.

He pulled the scarf down around his neck and raised his visor, the man smiled at her and gave a friendly wave. Hamilton nervously returned the gesture, a darker man walked up to the soldier in the turret and said something she couldn't understand, though judging by the mounted soldiers reaction she guessed it was an insult. The two men began laughing, Hamilton turned her attention away from the soldiers and back over to her commander. She was shocked to see Rory the reaper standing next to several men and Pina. Hamilton assumed that those were the outlanders commanders, she walked over to them and stood next her princess.

"What are they saying?" She asked Pina.

"They are talking about how they wish to handle this predicament."

The answer came from Rory, the apostle approached the two knights and stood in front of them.

"You see you've caused them quite a bit of trouble. All they wanted was a simple trade mission but you've dragged them into the internal affairs of your empire."

Pina went pale as the demi-goddess spoke, there was no denying that the men that now lay siege to Italica were once imperial soldiers.

"But one's loss is another's gain, now it seems I get to indulge myself in battle once more, and for that I must thank you Princess." Rory laughed as she walked back over to Itami.

 **XXXXX**

"Fuckin creep." Allen muttered.

Connor scoffed. "Yeah tell me about it."

"Better watch out, folks around here say she's some sort of demi-god."

"Shit Rayland, they said the same crap back at Alnus. I'll I've seen her do is walk around with a big fuckin' axe, news flash lotta things around her carry a big fuckin' axe."

"Yeah well somethin's off with her Mulligan, I don't know just it ain't right." Rayland replied watching as Rory clung to Itami.

"Oh hey bro you missed it." Mulligan slapped Rayland on the shoulder. "I caught Al waving at little miss knight over there."

"Christ Mulligan I was just trying to be friendly."

"Yeah friendly in another way." Rayland jabbed.

"You wanna go there child toucher?" Allen shot back.

"Don't make me come up there."

"Dare you to try."

"Hey cut it out, for Christ sake try to act professional for once." James said as he paced over towards the Humvee.

"What's the word S'arnt?"

James leaned against the Humvee and pulled out a can of tobacco.

"Apparently we got some Imperial hotshots around here. Daughter of the emperor, Princess Pina Co Lada."

"Wait wait wait, wow, say that again!"

"You heard me Mulligan, Pina Co Lada."

"Man her father must have really hated her." Allen said slipping down from the turret and popping open the Humvee door.

"Or a raging alcoholic."

The cavalrymen watched as the five task force officers followed Pina up the street and towards the estate. Nathaniel walked behind Pina as she lead them through the narrow streets, the first thing that came to his mind is that if the enemy breached the walls they'd have a hell of a time clearing the streets. After a while they were lead up the stairs towards the mansion. The mansion was a symbol of Italica's unimaginable wealth, elaborate gardens, artisan woodwork and masonry, something hard to find in the modern urban jungles back on earth. They made their way through the halls and into Pina's makeshift command center.

"As it currently stands we are outnumbered and besieged on all sides. I sent out a rider to warn my order but I have yet to hear back from him." Pina said putting her hands on a table in the middle of the room.

"How many men are down there." Daisuke asked as he approached the table.

"As far as I know anywhere from eight thousand to ten thousand." Donavan replied.

"And we have how many?" Itami asked.

"Well with the forty five men from your team, combined with the dwindling city guard and military. About one hundred and eighty five." Donavan replied leaning against one of the walls.

Nathaniel groaned. "Couldn't ask for better odds."

"Can we radio command for reinforcements?"

"Well Lieutenant Kita, our radio is busted we've been trying to get in contact with command for the last few days."

"Try one of ours, they're in working order." Carlson said.

Pina stood listening to the men, she was more than a little confused.

"Umm, sirs, if I may ask. What is going on?"

Donavan walked over to the table and answered the princess.

"We're going to try and talk to our army at Alnus and get them to send reinforcements. For now these men are willing to help defend the city."

"How do you expect to speak to your lords when they are miles away from here?"

"Trust me princess we have our ways." Donavan replied.

Pina eyed the captain suspiciously before letting our sigh of defeat.

"Alright, I'll trust you Captain. If there are no further delays I would like to discuss our plans for the battle."

Pina unrolled a map and spread it across the table and began to speak.

"I will take command of the militia and city guard, we'll take up positions on Italica's eastern battlements. I need your men to defend the south gate, the enemy is unlikely to attack there due to their failed attempt this morning."

As Pina continued to talk Donavan leaned over to Wheeler.

"She's trying to take advantage of our technology, she knows damn well that's where they're going to hit first."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow in question.

"Why?"

"South gate was destroyed this morning, y'all got anything to plug the gap?"

"How does four Abrams sound."

Donavan grinned.

"Sounds good. Any other tricks you got hidden up your sleeve?"

"Two Bradleys and a combat tested platoon." Nathaniel replied.

"Ma'am, Lieutenant Wheeler and Recon Team Three will defend the south wall, my team will help defend the west wall while Recon Team One will defend the north wall."

Pina looked at Donavan wondering if the outlander had seen through her plan. She decided to go along with him, it didn't matter it still kept her people out of danger.

"Very well Captain, I'll leave you men to your duties." She said, before she left the room she turned to face the officers. "I would like one of you to come with me to inform the countess."

Donavan put a hand on Nathaniel's back and gave him a light shove.

"Go on son, Lieutenant Itami can get your men situated."

Nathaniel stared at Donavan and the other officers in shock, a simple trade mission had turned into a battle and now he was playing the role of chief diplomat. He turned around and followed Pina out of the room. Donavan looked at the other officers.

"What? Kid's the youngest one here, he could use the experience."

 **XXXXX**

Nathaniel nervously stepped through the halls of the Italica as he followed the princess. As the two walked Pina began telling him about the strategic importance and the events they lead up to their current predicament.

"Italica is a fortress city built long before the Empire was founded, its location along the Tessria and Appia highways turned the city into an economic giant. For generations the city had been ruled by Clan Formal. But the last count died in the expedition beyond the Gate, leaving his three daughters fighting over who will be the next head of the family. Thanks to your legions we have no one to defend towns like Italica any more."

Nathaniel stopped in his tracks.

"Princess, I do hope you understand that none of this is the fault of my people. You were the ones who sent an army to conquer land, where I come from we have a saying. Reap what you sow, all of this is a result of your empire biting off more than it could chew."

Pina turned on the young lieutenant but couldn't find the words to refute him. She sighed in defeat.

"Unfortunately you're correct. Hopefully this alliance we have now will be the first step towards peace."

The two continued down the hall in silence. Soon they entered the main hall and Nathaniel was surprised to see a young girl before him.

"Princess it is good to see that you have made it through this most recent engagement." Countess Myui paused and looked at Nathaniel. "Who is this? Another outlander?"

In a blind panic Nathaniel did what came naturally to him. Click his heels and salute.

"My name is Lieutenant Nathaniel Wheeler, First Battalion Eighth Cavalry Regiment."

"Wheeler, like Captain Sinclair is here to help defend Italica Countess. We are grateful to have the help of his…" Pina paused remembering the words Donavan had used earlier. "Platoon."

"If the Imperial Princess trusts you then I trust you." The countess replied, she stood up and motioned to the meeting table in front of her. "Please take a seat."

Nathaniel took a seat across from the Countess and Pina sat next to him.

Myui we have come up with a plan to defend Italica." Pina said, she laid down what had been discussed in the command center moments earlier. Nathaniel was zoning out still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Myui was no older that his niece. He was drawn back to reality when Myui began calling his rank.

"Huh, yes?" He replied somewhat embarrassed.

"You said you were a Cavalryman?"

"Yes Ma'am, Eighth Cavalry. Why do you ask?"

Myui smiled. "Whenever I was able to talk to my father he always spoke about how he respected the cavalry and how he was proud of Italica's Horse Guard. Unfortunately, they never returned from the expedition."

Nathaniel glanced down at his hands, what she had said reminded him of the stories his father and grand father would tell him.

"Well Countess, if there is anything you would wish to know about us I'm sure I could tell a story or two." He replied trying to comfort the young girl.

"Are you sure? I know you're busy."

"I got some time."

"Then I would love to hear the history of your order." Myui replied grinning.

"Alright." Nathaniel said. "Where to begin."


	7. Chapter Six: Hold Out

**Chapter Six: Hold Out**

" _When placed in command, take charge."_

 _Norman Shwarzkopf_

 **Formal Estate Italica, Earth Date November 7 1985, 13:12, Special Region**

"Let's see, my regiment got its start at the turn of a century though it wasn't until forty four years later when the world was engulfed in war that's when we got to fight." Nathaniel said looking across the table Myui.

The young countess listened intently him eager for him to continue, in truth he was just repeating a mash up of lines he heard from the Battalion Commander and information he would need for the promotion board.

"My predecessors were defending a narrow strip of land known as the Losheim Gap, our enemy was determined to break through but we held on. Five thousand against twenty five thousand, despite heavy casualties the regiment held. Several months later we did the impossible once more, we helped deal the final blow to our enemy when a company of our military police captured and held one of the last bridges bridge over the Rhine river."

Nathaniel continued to tell the story of his unit, they were one of the youngest regiments in the cavalry but their history was rich. He told her of their time on fulda gap and how they stood toe to toe against a numerically superior force. How the air cavalry squadrons fought and died in the jungles of vietnam. As he recounted tales of his father and grand father, along with some of his own, Myui grew evermore interested. She wasn't the only one, even Pina was enthralled by his stories.

"Lieutenant Wheeler I'm curious, you mentioned the air cavalry and armored horses. Can tell me what these beasts look like?" Myui asked with a look of wonder in her eyes.

Nathaniel tried to find the words to describe helicopters and tanks to Myui. He thought it best just to show her, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Pulling out a picture he slid it across the table to the countess, she picked it up and her eyes went wide with shock. The picture was of Nathaniel's father wearing an Olive Drab uniform, an M16A1 in hand and legs hanging off the side of a UH-1 flying over the jungles of Vietnam.

"After the First World War and the development of new weapons we learned that horses would no longer cut it on the battlefield. In a world of razor wire and rapid fire weapons we need an new way to maneuver. What you are looking at is the result of years of an ever evolving combat doctrine, the Helicopter."

"Heli-coptor?"

"Yes ma'am"

Myui handed the picture to Pina who looked at with a similar expression of shock.

"Did the men at Losheim have these?" Myui asked.

"No, the battle at Losheim happened year before the appearance of the helicopter, it required a different style of fighting." He took out another picture from his wallet and handed it to Myui.

This time the picture was of his grandfather and his crew lounging about on their M4A3E2 Sherman after they had landed in France back in 1944. Myui looked up from the picture and at Nathaniel. The picture had only brought up more questions.

"Are these what you men used against the Imperials at Alnus?" She asked.

"Yes and no, times have changed. The..." Nathaniel paused to try and find the word for tank. "The armored horses used at Alnus are much more advanced than the one you see in the picture."

"And this… World War, what was it?"

Nathaniel thought for a moment. "A dark time in our history, the first one was started over something petty. The second however, well we had no choice but to fight."

"Can you tell me more?"

"Later Countess, right now I must return to my men."

Myui was disappointed, she wanted to hear more of Nathaniel's stories and to learn about the other world. But she understood that she could no longer take up any more of his time.

"Alright Lieutenant, but after the battle then you must tell me more."

Nathaniel chuckled.

"I'll see what I can do." He replied grabbing his rifle and exited the room leaving the floor to Pina and Myui.

"Countess I would advise you not to get to comfortable with them, they may be helping us now but don't forget they are still the enemy." Pina said standing up from her seat.

"I don't know Princess they seem like noble men."

"Noble? You do understand that these men are responsible for the death of your father?"

Myui thought on what Pina had said, the princess was, undoubtedly, correct. The men who were now defending her city had killed her father. But they had shown her no ill will, nor did they show any intent on conquering Italica. Unlike her father who had gone off to subjugate a peaceful people.

"Maybe, but Wheeler is a good man and Sinclair said they do not lust for conquest."

"Are you willing to stake your life and the well being of Italica on that?"

Myui looked Pina in the eyes.

"Yes, yes I am."

 **Appia Highway east of Italica, 15:12, Special Region**

The Abrams _Gypsy Wagon_ and _Challenger_ along with the Bradley _This Machine_ sat idly on a hill a few miles outside Italica. Engines were powered down and the crews of the vehicles lounged about waiting for something to happen. Every once in awhile the turret of _This Machine_ would traverse as Michael would scan the horizon. This was the first time Bradleys and Abrams had operated in a combat zone together. It was something they practiced before, the Bradley would laze the target and the computer system would link with the Abrams sending the data to the tank's gunner.

This is what they were designed to do, complement each other, cover each other, win. On a fluid battlefield the Bradley could keep pace with the new MBTs. Granted that the tanks wouldn't outrun each other. The mounted TOW launcher gave the Bradley the ability to engage armored targets in the Abrams blind spots. To top it off the impressive range that they both shared. It was one hell of a match.

Stephen sat with his legs hanging down into the turret, in his hands was a book that he picked up before he deployed. _Red Storm Rising_. He flipped the page and continue reading, in all it was a likely prediction except Clancy didn't account for the sudden attack on Japan by Romans.

Then again, how could anyone.

After a few minutes of silence he heard music emanating from one of the tanks. From a boombox the crew of _Gypsy Wagon_ was playing _Take on Me_. He shook his head and smiled before going back to reading. He felt the turret jerk under him causing him to drop his book into the turret and brace himself. He slid down and picked up his book.

"They hell was that about?"

"Sorry sarge, we got two horsemen on the hill to our two o'clock." Michael replied.

"Scouts?"

"Probably."

Stephen put on his comm helmet and got on the radio with the Abrams.

"Bravo 1-1, we got scouts on the horizon." He said pushing himself out of the turret and looking over at _Challenger_.

"Copy that, what's their range."

Michael looked up at Stephen. "900 meters."

"900 meters, transmitting target data."

Stephen could here the crew of _Challenger_ get straight to work.

"Gunner, Coax, troops."

"I see 'em, 900 meters and holding."

"Fire."

"On the way."

The 240 coax crackled sending the 7.62mm round down range. The first few round knocked a scout from his saddle, the next scout only a few seconds to process what happened before another burst of coax fire cut him down. Michael looked through the gun sight and whistled.

"Man they dead."

"Bravo 1-1, you got 'em."

"Yo, you a sniper in a past life." Michael asked.

"Nah man all you gotta do is put the reticle on him and he dies."

"Sick shit dawg, sick fuckin shit."

Lance popped his head out of the driver's hole of _Gypsy Wagon_ and yawned.

"We killin' shit now?"

 **XXXXX**

The men on Italica's wall were on edge, moments earlier they had heard the report of a machine gun. They knelt down behind parapets and brought up their weapons and began searching the horizon for potential hostiles. Nathaniel had his binoculars out looking for the enemy while his RTO tried to find out what happened. It soon came back that one of their picket units had taken out scouts, it came as both good and bad news to the defenders. Good in the way that the enemy scouts wouldn't be reporting back, bad in the fact that they now knew the enemy was preparing for another assault.

The young Lieutenant put down his binoculars and looked down the line. His men were stationed around the parapets their rifles and machines guns at the ready. Beside them the members of Recon Three were attaching NVGs to their helmets and settled in for a long night.

"Hey, Ell-Tee."

"Whatcha need Doc?"

"Just seein' how you're holding up."

"I'm good, and you?"

"Just another day in the life Sir." Travis replied with a shrug. "Talked with the Jap medic a little while ago, you know they gotta put tape on their rifles to hold 'em together?"

"Huh no shit?"

"Yeah I was surprised, not only that but it jams like a mother fucker."

"And why are they letting this fly? Like shit it's defective."

Travis shrugged.

"They've been a peace for 'bout forty years now, they don't have the warfighter mentality like us."

"You know that brings something else up." Nathaniel said looking at Travis.

"Huh?"

"Where the hell did you learn Japanese?"

"Lived in Misawa for a couple years when pops was in the air force. Picked up the language, returned to the States, high school offered Jap language classes, now here I am speakin' pretty decent Japanese."

"I never asked but where are you from Doc?"

"Fairchild, Washington."

"No shit, Tacoma."

Travis chuckled.

"Ain't we far from home."

"Yeah, no kidding."

 **15 miles outside of Italica, 16:01, Special Region**

"Legate, the scouts have yet to report in."

The bandit leader looked up from a map of Italica and over at the young man who had entered the tent. As a former officer in the Imperial army, he knew very well that if the scouts had not reported back yet then they were never coming back. It also answered his question of what the loud bang was earlier.

"This is troublesome, it seems Italica and her defenders aren't quite relaxed yet." The bandit leader said scratching his chin.

"Pardon me Legate, but there is a possibility that the outlanders from Alnus have already occupied Italica."

"Impossible, our latest reports say that they are miles away from Italica, and to take a city that quickly well you would have to be a demon."

"You were at Alnus."

"Yes."

"As was I, and you should know what they are capable of. That kind of magic we've never seen before, how they laid waste to our army in a matter of days."

The bandit leader began to laugh.

"You worry too much boy, now find Myuute and send her here then get some rest, tonight Italica falls."

 **Italica South Gate, 19:35, Special Region**

Allen looked out over the rolling hills and fields outside of the Italica, the sun had begun to set casting a warm glow over the city. He took this moment to enjoy the sun before it would inevitably sink behind the horizon. The scout slung his M16 off his shoulder and checked the magazine for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Yo O'Hare." Rayland said walking up to him, Rayland cradled his M60 in his arms. "See anything?"

"Nope." The two stood in silence for a few seconds. "How many do you think are out there?"

"Probably about a division, maybe a little less."

"Think we could hold out against that?"

"We turned back a company with only two machine guns so uh yeah we'll hold."

"It's gonna come down to the wire bro." Allen replied leaning against the parapet.

"Oh I know, but we got everything workin' in our favor. Defendable position, superior firepower, heard we got reinforcements one the way, and we got God on our side."

Allen raised on eyebrow.

"You talking about that death apostle kid?"

"Her? Fuck no, if you ask me we should left her ass behind but Lieutenant Bootenant over there wanted her to come with." Rayland said jabbing a thumb at Itami who was standing with Rory. Rayland pushed out the bi-pod on his machine gun and set up on some sandbags that were set up between the parapets. He set the range on his sights and checked the feed tray before setting it down.

"I don't think anyone wants her around." Allen replied brushing dirt off his pant leg.

"Yeah well, finish up this mission and we don't have to deal with her anymore."

"I hope so."

"Hey O'Hare! Get down here you're going on recon."

Allen looked over into the courtyard to see James standing there next to a Humvee. He shifted his rifle strap and patted Rayland on the shoulder before climbing down from the wall. He jogged over towards James and stopped just short of the Humvee, he looked around at the people gathered near the vehicle. Connor sat in the driver's seat with a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth and Doc Reed leaning against the hood with a couple of of wadded up dollar bills in his hand.

"You're a con artist Doc, I could bought those way fuckin' cheap back at Alnus."

"Well we ain't back on Alnus Mulligan."

"Fuckin' con."

"Nope, supply and demand." Travis replied pocketing the cash and heading around the other side of the Humvee.

"How much he got you for?" Allen asked climbing into the back of the vehicle.

"Fifteen bucks for a pack." Connor begrudgingly replied.

"Gotta make a living."

"Yo shut up man."

Travis laughed and looked over at Connor. "Thank you for shopping at Reed general store."

Connor promptly smacked Travis on the back of the head.

"Do I gotta add you to my ass kicking list?"

"Can I ask who's on it?"

"O'Hare, Moore, that one nigga from first." Connor replied starting the engine.

"Riley?" Allen asked ducking down into the compartment.

"Yeah that guy." Connor let out a plume of smoke. "I lost one of my trophies to him."

Allen racked the charging handle back on the browning.

"How'd you achieve that one?"

"Gambling."

"That's your own damn fault Mulligan."

"Doc do I gotta pop you in the head again."

"I'd prefer you didn't." Travis replied unfolding a map.

"Another one falls to Mulligan tyrannical reign, I tell ya one day."

"O'Hare."

"Huh?" Allen replied climbing back into the turret, below him Nathaniel stood with his arms crossed and looking less than pleased.

"You got two more joining you."

Behind Nathaniel stood the blue haired mage that had accompanied Recon Three to Italica and the knight Allen had seen when he had first arrived in the city. Allen raised and eyebrow, he knew what had happened.

"The Japs arrange this?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Good ole hero thought it'd be a good idea for us to get friendly with local leadership."

"Wait hold up, his idea of getting friendly is sending their delegation into the hot zone? He does understand that the chances of us being engaged is around one hundred and eighty percent."

Nathaniel shrugged. "Guess he's banking on the last twenty."

"Fuck me, why we taking orders from him anyways?"

"I apologize for any inconvenience sir, we'll do what we can to stay out of your way." Lelei said in almost perfect english.

Allen looked at the young mage then back at Nathaniel.

"The fuck is this?"

"Your interpreter."

Allen groaned. "Can't we just take Rayland with us? He'll be of more use out there."

"Sorry O'Hare we need him here."

"Sir we got four sixties in the platoon, you can spare one."

"O'Hare I can't give you Ray."

Allen shook his head and cursed before looking back at his platoon leader.

"Alright, we'll take 'em with us."

"You're gonna follow the road south until you make contact with the enemy, shadow them and continue to radio in their position."

"Understood sir." Allen replied as he slid his goggle down over his eyes.

Nathaniel opened the rear passenger doors and let the two Special Region natives into the humvee. Hamilton was both amazed and frightened when she entered the vehicle, the only thing that came close to the design were some of the carriages and wagons she had seen back in the capital. She looked around, two men sat in the front and another stood between them. She braced herself against a seat as the vehicle began to move forward.

"What is this thing?" Hamilton asked as she continued to look around the interior.

"The Americans call it a Humvee." Lelei replied.

"American?"

"Yes, it's what these men are called. Supposedly they come from a federations of small nations located on the other side of the gate."

"So that is who the Empire declared war on."

"Not quite." Lelei said. "When the Imperial army crossed over into their world they found themselves in a nation known as Japan."

"Then how did we end up declaring war on two nations? Unless, are these states are vassal nations to Japan?"

Lelei though for a few moments.

"I don't know."

The young mage thought about Hamilton's question, from here time at Alnus she had learned that the Japanese were the ones in command of the armies and that their numbers were greater than that of their counterparts. The evidence and facts led to the assumption that the United States were in fact Japanese vassal nations, but she wanted to be sure.

"I beg your pardon Specialist, but Lady Hamilton and I have a few questions."

Allen looked down into the crew compartment.

"Aight shoot."

"Are the American States vassal nations of Japan?"

Lelei couldn't see it but behind Allen's goggle his eyes went wide with shock, it took a few second from him to process the question before he burst out laughing. The reaction only threw Lelei and Hamilton into confusion.

"You guys hear this? Apparently we're under fuckin' Japan's rule." Allen cleared his throat and gave Lelei a proper response. "No we're not Japan's vassal, just an ally."

Hamilton looked at Lelei. "What did he say?"

"He said they they are not a vassal state but a friend."

Hamilton thought on the answer for a moment, alliance weren't uncommon in Falmart but what was unusual about this alliance was how quickly it had mobilised its forces for a counter offensive. It was clear that if the empire was to survive it would have to make peace with this alliance, something that was not lost on Hamilton or Pina.

"Tell him that the magic of his homeland is powerful and awe inspiring."

Lelei translated the message, Allen shook his head and replied in a language Hamilton did not understand. Much to her dismay Hamilton had to sit and listen as Lelei more or less interrogated Allen.

"Miss Lelei, if I may be so bold to ask what you two are talking about."

Lelei turned to face the knight, her eyes gleamed with excitement a result of what she had just learned from Allen.

"All this, these horseless carriages, fire staffs, everything we thought was magic is nothing more than years of scientific advances."

What was wonder to Lelei was horror to Hamilton.

"But to advance so far without the will of the gods it taboo!"

"The hell is her problem?" Allen asked.

"She says that you have committed taboo." Lelei replied.

"Mul."

Connor turned around and looked at Allen.

"What?"

"You fuck an elf bitch?"

"Not yet, why you ask?"

"Apparently someone here committed taboo." Allen replied with a 'Matter of Fact' tone.

"Shit dawg I know who did it." Connor replied with a grin.

"Who?"

"You nigga, you always listen to the rock crap cus. It's no wonder why the hoppdy gop gods of this world hate yo ass."

Allen hung onto the rim of the turret as he swung into the crew compartment and jammed his boot into Connor's left shoulder. Connor yelped in pain and spun around to face his attacker.

"That hurt asshole!"

"Don't go baggin' on my music dickbag. And eyes on the fuckin' road." Allen retorted pulling himself back in behind the M2.

"Yo Doc, back me up on this one." Connor said as he rubbed where Allen had kicked him.

Travis looked over at him then back down the road.

"Sure, Allen you're a bitch."

"Love you too Doc." Allen glanced down at a confused Lelei and Hamilton. "Now back to the subject at hand, what's the taboo?"

Lelei, who was still bewildered by the actions of the three soldiers, composed herself and answered.

"To advance and make headway in science and alchemy without consent from the gods."

Connor shrugged. "Ain't my god."

"Amen brother." Travis chimed in.

"So you're telling me that you have to get permission from a deity if you want build a toaster?"

Lelei cocked her head.

"Toaster?"

"Uhhhh nevermind." Allen replied as he turned to face forward.

 **Several Miles outside Italica, 20:14, Special Region**

In the silence of the night bandit scouts moved like ghost through the wheat in the farm fields outside of the trade city. In the dark they could only see a few feet in front of them, they stepped lightly and used the sound of the Appia river to guide them. One of the scouts, a siren named Myuute, kept low to the earth hoping that none would see her, Myuute's pulse was racing and she tried to control her breathing. They were in the midst of a dangerous game.

Several times they tried to cross the bridge and every time they failed. The moment they broke into the open a ghost on the other side of the river would steal a life of one of their comrades. The scouts would have happily turned tail and found another way into Italica, but their orders were clear, capture the fastest route to Italica. So they came up with another plan, swim across the river and kill the demons on the other side. The group of scouts came up to the edge of the wheat fields, in the moonlight they could see the bank of the river fifty yards away.

The young siren looked over at her commander, he nodded and broke into the open. The other scouts were right on his heels, they got within ten yards of the river bank before a thunderous claps were heard in rapid succession. Bolts of fire streaked across the river cutting down the scouts before they could make it to the river. Myuute fell down and watched in terror as the scouts were cut down in a matter of seconds. Not willing to risk her life to cross the river Myuute slipped back into the wheat fields hoping that the she would escape unnoticed.

 **XXXXX**

Carlos crawled back into the underbrush after he saw the remaining bandits flee, he flipped up his NVGs and crawled back over to where Janek lay on overwatch. In the black it was almost impossible to see the beret sniper without the NVGs.

"You get those bastards _Přítel_?"

" _Sí_ they won't try swimming across the river anytime soon." Carlos replied as he settled in a few meters away from Janek.

He flipped his NVGs down and glanced over at Janek, at the end of the scope on his M14 was another attachment. The device, an NOD, looked as if someone had attached a kaleidoscope to the end of Janek's rifle. Carlos flipped the down the bi-pod on his M240. He could here Janek shift in place as the beret sniper wiped sweat from his brow.

"It's too damn hot."

Carlos scoffed. "Tell me about it, fuck this continent and its backwards ass seasons."

The two continued to watch the bridge like they had been doing for the last four hours. They remained unmoving until they heard the sound of an engine approaching from the rear. Janek rolled over on his back and looked down the scope of his rifle.

"One of ours?"

"No it belongs to the Romans, who the fuck do you think it belongs to?" Janek replied as he stood up and stepped onto the road. He held his rifle over his head and signaled for the Humvee to stop.

"Didn't expect to see a snake eater out here." Allen said leaning on the gun.

Janek grinned. "Eaters."

"Huh?"

"Plural, there's two of us." Janek replied as Carlos stood up and slung his 240 over his shoulder.

"Well shit y'all just blend right in." Connor said.

Janek shrugged. "Comes with the job, you trying to cross the river _Soudruh_?"

"Yeah, we've been ordered to make contact with the enemy then report back." Allen replied.

"Well you don't gotta go far, bandits have been trying to cross the river."

"You should see it _amigo,_ they tried to get over the bridge and Russian over here got them all, then they tried to rush across didn't work out for them. Last time they tried to swim across the river."

Allen raised an eyebrow. "You think this is the prelude to an attack."

"That would be my guess, cross here and it's a straight shot to Italica."

"Anything we could do to fix that Snake Eater?" Connor asked.

"We blow the bridge." Janek replied.

"Can we do that?"

"Captain said that if we think the bridge puts us at a tactical disadvantage to destroy it."

Connor climbed out of the humvee. "You got what we need."

"Yep."

"Alright, let's get it done."

Connor climbed back into the humvee and parked it off to the side of the road. As the cavalrymen watched the opposite bank for any sign of the enemy, the two berets went to work setting C4 demolition charges on the ancient architecture. Lelei and Hamilton watched on in confusion, Hamilton looked up at Allen.

"Can you ask them what they are doing?" Hamilton asked.

Lelei obliged and translated the message.

"He says they're going to "blow" the bridge."

"Blow the bridge?"

It didn't take long or the charges to be set and for Janek and Carlos to be running back towards the humvee with wire trailing behind them. Carlos stopped by the humvee and quickly began to attacked the wire to the detonator.

"Ready." Carlos said.

"Go."

There was little delay between the time Carlos squeezed the clacker and the deafening explosion yards away. The forces of the explosion through chunks of stone masonry several meters in the air. Allen could help but to feel like a kid on the fourth of july when he saw the explosion, he burst out laughing and cheering. He wasn't alone however, the other men with him also began to cheer, for Hamilton it was terrifying.

"Aight it's time we get the hell out of here." Connor said starting the engine. The radio crackled to life as group began to pile in the vehicle.

"Combat Three Two, Combat Three Actual. You boy alright out there."

Travis picked up the radio.

"That we are sir, but uhh be advised we're on our way back with two berets and the bridge across the river has been blown."

"Blown? Two repeat your last, you said you blew up a bridge?"

"Yes sir, it was a delaying action."

There was a few seconds of silence.

"Copy that Three, how far out are you."

Travis looked over a Connor.

"Forty five."

"Forty five mikes out sir."

 **FOB Alnus, November 8 1985, 02:28,Special Region**

"Sergeant, what's happening?" Colonel Casner asked as he walked into the S3 Office. The op sergeant, and E7, turned and faced Casner.

"Same thing we do everyday Colonel, trying to take over the world."

Casner grinned and paced over towards the mission board. Two months into the deployment and moral was still high, another seven and they'd be on a plane home. A rough map of the area was pinned to the cork board and various thumb tacks marked the positions of recon teams and patrols. String tied between two tacs marked what the task forces jokingly called the "Front Lines" and beyond that the "Wilderness". The front lines was nothing more than an area in which they had yet to fully secure. Beyond the front lines were two tacs, Recon One and Three.

"Did we get word from our boys in the Wilderness yet?"

The ops Sergeant looked up from one of the maps.

"I don't know sir, the mission to Italica is under Jap command. I sent a runner to see if I could get an update but the Japs turned him around."

"That ain't right, can we raise the Beret ODA?"

"Yes sir, Williams get Sinclair on the horn."

"Yes Sergeant."

Casner stood looking at the map as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Colonel, we got him."

Casner walked over to the radio and picked up the transmitter.

"ODA 571, Yellowjacket. SITREP."

A few seconds later Donavan's voice crackled over the radio.

"Yellowjacket, we're surrounded by a division size force. Italica garrison is down to half strength. We've taken the necessary steps to hold out sir."

"ODA, what the status of the recon teams?"

"They're all here Sir."

Casner processed the information.

"Do you need reinforcements?" Casner asked.

"Sir, we've been trying to get reinforcements for the twenty four hours."

Casner was stunned, his men had been under siege of at least a day and this was the first he had heard of it.

"Captain we're sending help, hold on. Yellowjacket out." Casner put down the receiver and stormed out of the ops center. A few door down he entered Arnett's office. "Arnett, with me, now!"

Arnett didn't bother to question why, he pushed himself away from his desk, grabbed his field jacket, and followed his enraged Army counterpart down the hall.

"Mind if I ask what the fuck is going on Casner?"

"Recon One and Three have are surrounded and the Japs aren't sending reinforcements."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"We're gonna have a sit down with good General." Casner said as he pushed open the door to Hazama's office.

Hazama was sitting behind his desk as his staff stood around the room and briefed him. All eyes turned to the American officers.

"Colonel Casner? What is the meaning of this!?" Colonel Kamo exclaimed.

"I would like to know why my men are surrounded by a numerically superior force and are being refused reinforcements."

Hazama raised an eyebrow in question and Kamo began to shift uncomfortably.

"This is the first I've heard of it." Hazama replied. "Colonel Kamo this is your op, mind explaining."

"General _my_ men are perfectly capable of holding off the enemy. If the situation proves too much for them to handle we will scramble a QRF."

"What QRF? The one you haven't put together yet?" Casner snapped receiving a glare from Kamo.

"By that time it could be too late." Hazama said. "Casner you have command of the Italica op, Kamo brief him."

"Arnett how many men do we have ready to move."

"Give me less than an hour and I can get parts of the First Squadron and two six two airborne."

"Get on it." Casner ordered. Arnett rushed out of the room and ran down the hall towards the command center.

"Don't fall behind, Kengun get the 4th Combat Unit ready to move!" Colonel Kengun saluted Hazama and left the room. "Kamo we'll talk about this later."


	8. Chapter Seven: Combined Arms

**Chapter Seven: Combined Arms**

 _For these men are lately drawn from the ways of peace. They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest._

 _-Franklin D Roosevelt_

 **Fob Alnus, November 8 1985, 02:48, Special Region**

Casner paced the length of the command center, a room that seemed dull and quiet only a few minutes earlier but was now in an uproar as the command staff scrambled to get a Quick Reaction Force to Italica.

"Who do we have in the air right now?" Casner demanded, coming to a stop.

"Gunrider 2-3 and 2-4 are several miles out sir. 318 will be in the air in within an hour, SDF are preparing to scramble F-4s."

The Colonel paused for a moment. Gunrider Three and Four were America's best kept secret in the Special Region; two Apache helicopters picked from the First Cavalry Division Aviation Brigade and sent through the Gate. The purpose of sending these aircraft into the Special Region was simple; to test the capabilities of the Apache in a real combat zone, right under the nose of the Soviet Union. The pilots of these aircraft barely logged a hundred hours of flight time before they were told they were to be the first to fly the Apache in combat. To prevent information from leaking to the general public, the AH-64s had been snuck into the SR under the cover of night and were kept under lock and key in their own separate hanger. Only the pilots, maintenance crew, and task force command knew of the Apache's presence.

"Get Gunrider on the line, tell them to reroute to Italica."

"Yes sir."

"Cat's out of the bag now," Casner muttered.

 **Several Miles outside Italica, 02:59, Special Region**

Low over the farm fields south of Italica, three helicopters danced over the terrain towards the trade city. One helicopter was small and bulbous like a flea, two rocket pods hung off the sides and an array of optics and sensors housed in a ball atop the rotor blades. The other two helicopters were enormous, angular and moved like dragonflies. A plethora of Hellfire missiles and Hydra rockets were slung under the wing pylons while a massive 30mm cannon under the nose scanned the horizon. The OH-58 Kiowa and the AH-64 Apache, like the M2 Bradley and the M1 Abrams, were meant to complement each other.

2-4's pilot, Kyle Fletcher, rubbed his eyes. He was still getting used to the new IHADSS, with one eye taking in and processing the information being fed to him while the other was busy scanning the horizon. His weapons system operator, Chace Howle, on the other hand was having a better time with the new system; the M230 gun that he had control of was slaved to his IHADSS, and wherever he looked, the gun was quick to follow.

"Fucking hell, I'd fly without this thing if I could."

"Boy, just a week ago you were saying how badass the IHADSS is, what the hell happened?"

"Multitasking, that's what fucking happened." Fletcher replied rubbing his eye once more. "Hey Captain, what's this place we're going to again?"

"Italica. We've come close to it in the past." Captain Christopher Huang replied.

Kyle blinked a few times and shook his head.

"Fuck."

"Fletcher, what's going on?"

"IHADSS is messing with him, Captain." Chase answered for his pilot.

"Can you keep going?"

"I'll be fine, Captain." Kyle replied keeping a steady hand on the flight control.

"If you say so, Lieutenant. ETA to Italica is five minutes. Ward, you got the gun."

Christopher's WSO David Ward, replied with a thumbs up.

"Copy that, Ell-tee."

The helicopters continued dipping and diving over the terrain, coming ever so closer to their objective. Though radar and SAMs were nonexistent in the Special Region, the pilots continued to fly nap of the earth. Through their helmet displays, the hills, wheat fields, and occasional farmhouses appeared in various shades of green. In the distance the large outline of walls came into view, and with it, bright flashes of lights along the top edge.

From the walls the task force defenders poured as much fire as they possibly could into the enemy formations. Fletcher pulled slightly back on the control stick to bring the nose up, rocking the Apache forward and leveling out, allowing him to bring the full might of his armament to bear.

"Lieutenant, target the enemy siege equipment."

"Understood sir. Howle, enemy Ballista, nine hundred yards."

Chace brought his eyes down into the targeting system and lined up on the enemy Ballista.

"I got him."

"Fire."

Chace squeezed the trigger and the missile dropped from the pylon. The Hellfire rode the laser down towards the target and consumed the enemy with flame and shrapnel.

"Target destroyed." Chace replied.

"Good. Alright, next target."

"Two-Four, Sparrow 1-2. At, uhhh, 921 yards you got an enemy Catapult in the middle of a reload drill." The voice came from the young Warrant Officer piloting the Kiowa.

"Copy that Sparrow, Chace."

"Already on it." The WSO brought the targeting system to bear onto the unsuspecting enemy and let loose another missile.

The missile struck with deadly accuracy, and the bandit troops took quick notice of the destruction of their siege equipment. To the bandits, their equipment was being destroyed by some ungodly magic, and they had no clue that the culprit was a helicopter sitting a mere half mile away. It wasn't just the bandits who were unaware of the Apache's presence, either, and a few seconds after another missile collided the task force net was flooded with chatter.

"Hey, uhh, Red One Actual, you don't happen to be on the east wall?"

"That's a negative ODA, we're holding the South wall with Two."

"Okay. Recon Three Actual, did you send any of your boys over here?"

"Negative, Captain. We've got our own problems."

"Is the mage still with you?"

"She's still here?"

"Then who the fuck is blowing shit up on the east wall?"

 **XXXXX**

Donavan watched from his position atop the wall as the enemy scattered about like army ants on a raid. His radioman knelt next to him as he tried to figure out who or what was going on the east wall; no one from the task force had been assigned to that wall at Pina's request. The first thing that came to mind was that _maybe_ the Italican guard had a mage or two in their ranks, but that was obviously not the case when he heard an unfamiliar call sign over the net.

"Pit Viper, Gunrider 2-3. We'll be your top cover this evening."

The familiar thumping of rotor blades approached from the east. Donavan glanced behind him and was stunned by the sight of two massive shapes flying towards them. He was familiar with Cobra gunships, and to a lesser extent the Huey gunship, but this new beast that had taken the field was like nothing he had ever seen.

They came to stop just above the wall, hovering for a few seconds before unleashing a salvo of rockets. The rockets left their pods with a terrifying screech and leaped for their enemy. Mid-flight, they let loose their payload of flechettes, hundreds of small metal darts impacting the bandit troops killing many and wounding even more.

"Pit Viper, Gunrider. You can hear me right?"

"I can hear you Gunrider, we appreciate the support." Donavan replied, as he paced towards the parapets and looked out over the field.

The enemy had pulled back and reorganized, holding their position as the archers came to the front of the formation. The archers nocked their arrows and drew back on the bow strings and let loose a storm of arrows. Donavan and his men ducked down behind the parapets as the arrows flew overhead. It was then that he realised that the arrows weren't meant for him but the three helicopters hovering overhead. He watched as the arrows bounced harmlessly off the cockpit of the aircraft or glanced off the side. The radio crackled to life with the voice of one of the pilots.

"Nuhu motherfucker, you aren't getting another chance. Howle, fuck 'em up!"

The 30mm chaingun on the lead Apache traversed to the right and began firing in an arc. Rounds impacted around the archers, tearing off limbs and throwing up clods of dirt and grass. The Apache then pulled off and let the second one take its place. No sooner did the second one take up position did it begin to fire. Within seconds, the line of archers was decimated and the bandit legion began to fall back towards the east gate. Donavan couldn't help but to let out a cheer along with the rest of his men as the routed legion scrambled for what little cover they could find. He grabbed the radio and began to speak.

"Gunrider, Pit Viper. How long can you stay on station?"

"At most thirty minutes, any longer than that and we won't have enough fuel to make it home. Call out targets and we'll do what we can."

Donavan crouched behind a parapet and peeked over the wall. He couldn't help but chuckle as the bandit forces stumbled over each other in their blind retreat.

"2-3, anything outside the east wall ain't friendly."

"Copy that. Four, follow me in."

"Copy that. Howle, how we lookin'?"

The WSO looked down at the instrument panel.

"Four Hellfires, handful of rockets, gun still good on ammo."

Kyle banked the Apache and followed his wingman across the town, the pilot looking out over the enemy ranks. The bandit army held their position outside of the defenders arrow range as catapult crews battered away at Italica's walls.

"2-4, we're clearing out enemy artillery. Get a line on them and Sparrow will handle the rest."

"Copy. Howle, lock 'em in."

 **XXXXX**

From the rear of the bandit army, Myuute stood as if she was reaching for something. A green aura surrounded her as she chanted. The siren's job was simple: form a shield around her comrades and protect them from the volleys of arrows coming from Italica's walls. Only moments earlier, the enemy had destroyed several pieces of siege equipment with powerful magic she had never seen before. Though the attack had shaken the army, it did little to halt their assault and inevitable capture of Italica.

The attack was going well for the bandits, without their ability to lash out from range the Italica defenders could only watch as the bandits got closer. For Myuute, something didn't feel right, as in the distance she could hear an ominous buzzing that sounded almost like a monstrous insect. The buzzing turned into a frightening thump as it came closer to her. Suddenly, a catapult crew on her right was obliterated in a flash of light. Myuute stopped chanting, her words dying in her throat as she stared at the smoking ruins. Just like what happened before, catapults and ballistas erupted in flames as if the gods themselves decided to strike them down.

Myuute jerked her head back towards the walls when she heard her comrades screaming as explosions erupted amongst the ranks. Two massive black objects hovered above the walls of the city as they rained hellfire down on them. How the objects hovered and danced above the city reminded Myuute of the dragonflies she and her friends would try to catch when she was young. She stumbled backwards terrified as the black dragonflies continued their relentless assault on the troops below. The young siren resisted the urge to turn and run, she stood her ground against the onslaught.

Myuute was not the only one stricken with fear. Behind the battlelines, Pina stood on balcony overwatching the carnage below. As the Imperial princess watched the AH-64s suppressed the enemy advance, she remembered what Nathaniel said to her.

 _What you are looking at is the result of years of an ever-evolving combat doctrine._

At the time, she didn't understand what the Lieutenant had meant. After seeing these helicopters in action, she saw what Nathaniel was getting at. The ability to have unrestricted mobility on the battlefield, to reach out and touch the enemy without the risk of retaliation.

"Gods, who did we declare war on?"

 **Alnus Airbase, 04:21, Special Region**

"Hawk three, Tower. You're clear for takeoff on runway two eight left."

"Copy that. Two eight left quick climb to 15,000."

Wallace gunned the throttle, bringing the F-15 up to speed. It was only a couple hundred feet before the fighter gained lift. He flew low over the runway picking up as much speed as he could. After a few seconds, he kicked the F-15 into full afterburner and jerked the control stick back towards him. The nose of the aircraft pointed skyward as it went into a vertical climb. Traveling at over a thousand miles per hour, it didn't take long for Wallace to reach 15,000 feet. He leveled out the craft and fell in next to his wingman, and from above he could make out the HESCO barrier walls of Forward Base Alnus and the surrounding structures.

The F-15s loitered above the base as they waited for their last member to join them. At their current altitude, they were able to see the rising sun long before anyone on the ground could. The early morning rays caught the tail of Masson's fighter, illuminating the teal and blue star. Inside the star was the sword, shield and wings insignia of Air Combat Command. Just behind the engine intake was the insignia of 366th fighter wing and on the other side the insignia of their squadron, a green dragon holding a rocket.

Within a few minutes of reaching his flight leader, the last fighter piloted by Second Lieutenant Hawke fell in formation. Captain Masson held up a clenched fist and motioned for the fighters to form up. The flight could do little to affect the fight on the ground but they could make sure damn well that no enemy enters Italica's airspace.

 **Italica South Wall, 04:52, Special Region**

Holding position two hundred yards outside the wall, _Gypsy Wagon_ and _Challenger_ sat waiting. The enemy had concentrated their attack on the north and east wall, leading the men of third platoon to believe that blowing the bridge had worked, or that the enemy had neglected to attack the east wall entirely. Either way, it was fine by Lance. The young driver was busy reading the latest issue of _Iron Man_ only coming back to reality when the comm channel became active.

Much to his dismay, it had become quite active.

"Yo, Dupont."

"What, Hepner?"

"You, uh, you reading Iron Man?"

"Yeah." Lance replied closing the comic.

"Can I read that when you're done?" The gunner asked.

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Remember what you did to my copy of Blood Reign?"

Hepner laughed.

"Yo, that shit was in gobbledygook."

"You fuckin' drew on every page!"

The gunner shrugged. "I made it better."

"You drew a cock on the main character!"

The other crewmen began laughing.

"What can I say man it needed a-"

"Four, we're moving out."

Lance buttoned up and settled into his position. Behind him the rest of the crew were preparing to roll.

Taylor keyed his comms and looked over at his wingman. "Christ on a stick Ell-Tee, how badly did our new friends fuck up if they need us?"

"Fuck if I know. Got the call from the SF guy saying enemy forces are massing on the east gate. And since our top cover decided to up and leave, guess who the job to clear 'em out falls too?"

"Understood lieutenant. DuPont, let's get this thing moving."

"Yes, sergeant."

Dupont shifted out of neutral and into drive, the Abrams lurched forward and fell in next to the platoon commander's tank. Keeping pace with the lead tank was a task easier said than done. The driver of _Challenger,_ Private First Class Orien Clarke, was trained to operate the M60 and the conversion to the M1 was not treating him kindly. Because of this he, like many other M1 drivers, kept outrunning his wingman.

"Keep her steady Clarke. You're outpacing Four." Lieutenant Rossette said standing behind the commander's pintle-mounted machine gun.

"Sorry sir."

 _Challenger_ slowed its speed allowing Lance to keep pace much easier.

The two tanks crested a hill overlooking the east gate. Looking through the thermal sights Hepner saw hundreds of white hot figures moving in the fields below.

On instinct the gunner yelled. "Sergeant, target front!"

"No shit Sherlock." The TC replied. "Lieutenant, are we clear main gun?"

"At this point, I think anything goes." Rossette replied.

"Repeat your last."

"You're clear main gun, Sergeant."

"Copy." Taylor keyed the comms and shouted to his crew. "Gunner, HEAT, Troops!"

"Identified foot mobiles 700 meters."

Dunn shoved a HEAT round into the breach.

"Up!"

"Driver forward!"

On his sergeant's order, Lance kicked the tank into gear and crested the berm. Just as he came to a stop the order to fire was given, the tank's main gun gun kicked to life, sending the HEAT round down range. Lance reversed back behind the berm as _Challenger_ took his tank's place and fired. The two MBTs continued to berm drill, the sudden attack on the flank caused chaos behind the enemy lines. But by then it was already too late, the enemy had breached the gate and were flooding into the city.

"Shit. Dupont, get us on the crest! Hepner, lay into them with coax! Dunn, get on the two forty!"

 _Gypsy Wagon_ stopped at the top of the hill and Hepner began traversing the turret in a sawing motion as he fired the coax, cutting down swaths of enemy.

"Pit Viper, Red One Actual. Enemy breached the east gate. We're laying into their rear guard, but a sizeable force made it inside."

 **XXXXX**

Allen glanced over the wall and into the fields below. In the dawn's growing light, he was able to see most, if not all of the field without the aid of night vision. Despite heavy fighting on the north and east walls, the southern sector remained relatively quiet. He slipped back down behind the parapet and pulled his canteen out for a drink. Allen set the canteen down, opening up his flak jacket and rolling his sleeves. Even in the early morning hours, it was still hot and humid. He had just settled back down when her heard his CO curse.

"Fuck it. First squad, second squad, mount up!"

Nathaniel swung his M-16 off his shoulder and began to climbed down the stairs.

"Sir, ain't we supposed to hold here?" Rayland asked taking his cheek off the stock of his machinegun.

"New orders, Specialist. Sinclair wants us to support the city guard."

"Man, I was just gettin' comfortable."

Rayland stood up from his position and grabbed his machine gun. Some time during the night, he had fully undone his flak jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He lifted the machine gun over his shoulder and followed his CO down the stairs. It almost looked as if the squad gunner had walked straight out of Vietnam. Allen was quick to follow his squad mates. Before he went down, he took one last glance at the thing that had been on his nerves since the battle began.

Rory.

The Apostle of death had been twitching and moaning for the past hour. It had unnerved soldiers from both the Army and the SDF, but the initial shock and fear had turned into irritation and annoyance. Allen felt sorry for third and fourth squads who were staying behind, but he was glad to be getting off the south wall.

Allen jogged towards one of the waiting humvees and climbed inside. He pulled down his goggles and covered his mouth with his scarf before calling down into the crew compartment.

"So how bad is it, Ell-Tee?"

"FUBAR. First line has fallen and they breached the east gate. I want you to keep an eye out, O'Hare. This could turn into urban fighting at any moment."

"Hooah, sir."

"Sir, if shit is really hitting the fan, shouldn't we get Recon One up front as well?" Connor asked, readying his rifle.

"They're still dealing with picket force on the north wall. Kita said he'll get his boys over as soon as-"

Nathaniel was cut off by the frantic yelling of the Japanese recon team.

"Matte! _Darekaga kanojo o tomeru!_ "

Allen looked over his shoulder and saw Rory jump of the wall and land mere inches from him on the roof of the humvee before jumping once more on to the nearby buildings.

"O'Hare, the fuck was that!?"

"I-it was that apostle bitch, sir!" Allen replied more than a little astounded.

Behind them, Itami, Shino, and Kuwahara scrambled down the wall, piled into an HMV, a High Mobility Vehicle much like the American humvee, and sped off after Rory. Nathaniel tore the radio off the dash and began yelling.

"Step on it, Sergeant!"

James kicked the lead humvee kicked into gear and sped off after the HMV, two other humvees quickly fell in behind the lead. Nathaniel got on the radio and began shouting into the receiver.

"Lieutenant Itami, what in God's name are you doing!?"

"Rory ran off, Wheeler! We're going after her!"

"I see that Lieutenant, but why the hell did you abandon your post?"

Rayland looked over at his platoon leader, he could see his rage building as he talked to the Japanese Lieutenant.

"What part of Rory ran off do you not understand, Wheeler!? We have to make sure she doesn't get herself killed!" Itami retorted. "She is heading right into the middle of the fight."

The argument was interrupted when Captain Kita's voice came over the radio.

"All units on this channel, the north was had been overrun! I repeat, north wall has been overrun! We're pulling back into the city."

"Just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse." Nathaniel muttered. "Smith, break off and support Recon One."

"Copy that."

The lead humvee peeled off onto onto one of the side streets heading north as the two other humvees and the HMV continued their course towards the east wall.

"You know, sir, for your first real trial by fire, you're doin' pretty good."

"Mulligan, keep driving."

Connor chuckled. "Yes sir."

After several more minutes of driving Nathaniel order what was left of his contingent to stop as the HMV continued down the road.. Nathaniel stepped out of the vehicle, soon followed by Connor and Rayland.

"O'Hare, get down from there. We're going on foot. Mileson, Miller, stay here and guard the vehicles."

Allen lowered himself down and out of the vehicle. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and jogged over to his CO.

"Sir, why we stoppin'?" Allen asked.

"Combat area is roughly 2 blocks that way." Nathaniel replied pointing down where the HMV had continued off towards. "We're gonna cut through the side streets and get on their flank. Rayland, you got point. The rest of you, fall in staggered column and for Christ sake take off the NVGs. We don't need them."

The unit moved onto the side streets with Rayland in the lead. Rifles raised, they moved fast and quiet past storefronts and inns. The sounds of clashing metal and reports from rifles were heard only meters away. Every once in awhile someone would report over the radio. In a matter of minutes they held the flank, Rayland knelt down behind a wooden crate and kicked out the bipod on his machine gun. He aimed down his sight and began lining up a target.

"Fuck."

Nathaniel knelt down next to Rayland.

"What's up?"

"Apostle bitch decided she was gonna get in the middle of them."

Nathaniel looked down the street, there surrounded by bandits was Rory standing with her halberd. Every time one of the bandits charged Rory he would be cut down by a swift blow from the halberd. The soldiers watched as the bandits fell one by one. A couple of the bandits tried break through into the town. Nathaniel brought up his rifle and took aim at one of the bandits that was coming his way and fired a single shot. The 5.56mm bullet punched through the plate armor of the bandit sending bits of of metal and lead into the man's chest.

"The hell you waiting for?! Open fire!" Nathaniel ordered.

Not needing to be told twice, his men opened fire. The bandit contingent was cut down without mercy. The commotion was enough to get the attention of the bandits and the Italica defenders. Caught between the American gunfire and the crazed apostle, the bandits panicked. Some of the bandits lost their nerve and fled for the gate, trying to push past their comrades still filing through. Nathaniel and his men pushed the advantage and bounded up to another position. Near the palisade, Nathaniel saw his Japanese counterparts laying into bandit force.

Rayland's M-60 rattled to life and spat hot brass to the ground and down the neck of Allen laying down next to him. Allen cursed and stopped firing as he reached down his shirt for the brass. Finding it, he plucked the brass from his neck and threw it off to the side before it could burn him again.

"Bet that didn't feel all too good!" Rayland yelled over the chatter of the M-60.

Allen glared at him before he resumed firing. By now, the sun had risen enough to light up the entire city. Despite being pelted and laid into by countless rifles rounds or being pick off outside the front gate by tank fire, the bandits continued their relentless assault.

"Jesus Christ! Just how many more of these fuckers are there?" Allen muttered as he tossed away a spent magazine before before reaching into his bandolier and pulled out another. "Lieutenant! We're running a little low on ammo here!"

Nathaniel crouched behind a wood crate, using it for cover. He leaned out, fired a burst at bandit, then leaned back in. Nathaniel looked over at Allen with a nervous grin.

"Shit's gonna get a little interesting then."

Allen shared a confused glance with Rayland.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Rayland shrugged as he fired another burst. In the three seconds he held the trigger, he fired off the last few rounds in the belt. The squad gunner ducked down behind the crate and looked over at Allen.

"'Ey Al, you got me covered?" Rayland asked as he reached for another belt.

Allen gave his squadmate a thumbs up. Rayland got behind his gun and opened the feed tray. He fed the rounds into the chamber and slammed the cover shut. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Allen firing like a madman, suppressing the approaching bandits. Crossbow bolts glanced off the cobblestone road next to the rifleman. Raylan racked the receiver back and let it slam forward, pulling the stock of M-60 to his shoulder. With a fresh burst of lead, he rejoined the battle.

 **XXXXX**

"Gambler 5-1, Sword 1-1. Twenty minutes out from Italica."

The pilot, Chief Warrant Officer Shane Anderson, of the UH-60A known as Gambler 5-1, looked over to his right at Sword 1-1, a CH-46 belonging to the Marines.

"Copy that, Sword 1." The pilot keyed the internal comms. "Yo Foster, twenty minutes out."

Sergeant First Class Tate Foster, the crew chief of Gambler one, leaned back from the minigun and gave a thumbs up. Anderson looked over at his co-pilot, Warrant Officer Dominic Cooper.

"Think this is going to be a bit rougher than Honduras, Coop."

Cooper, a man of hispanic descent with short black hair and a chevron mustache, smiled and glanced over at his pilot.

"You really think this 'ill be tough? I mean, yeah Caesar could be hiding with a RPG up his ass, or god forbid Frodo pops up with an Igla."

"Alright, I get. Forget I said anything." Anderson replied as his co-pilot began to laugh.

"Hey Chief, what if they do got some sort of air defense?"

Anderson once more looked over his shoulder, the question came from the newest member of the crew, PFC Caiden Grimes.

"Kid, how old are you?" Anderson returned his attention to flying.

"Eighteen, sir. Grew up in Astoria."

"Ah, Oregon boy. From D.C., myself. Anyways, that's besides the point. Thing is, Grimes, air defense or not, it won't matter. You just gotta trust me and ol' Coop up here." Anderson replied. "Just ask Foster back there 'bout 'Duras."

An annoyed groan came from Foster, spurring laughter from both pilots and a confused look from Grimes.

"What happened in Honduras?"

"Go on, tell him Foster." Cooper said between laughs.

Foster leaned back against the support behind him.

"So back in '83, we were shuttling Honduran troops to the border to fight Nicaraguan troops who had crossed the border. You know, showing some good faith to the Hondurans 'n shit." Foster took a deep breath. "Then shit hit the fan. Some shit bag on the ground decided they were going to shoot at us. So all of a sudden, we start taking small arms and recoilless rifle fire. Instead of getting the fuck out of dodge, our dumbass pilot decided he was going to loiter around and try to find the source."

"Hey Foster, skip to the good part." Cooper interrupted.

"Yeah yeah, I was getting there. So Andy brings us to tree top level and begin circling. I start yelling at the Hondurans to start shooting but of course they're freaking the fuck out. Like you ever thrown a rock at some crows or pigeons? Yeah, these mother fuckers wouldn't calm down, not that I blame them. Anyways, five minutes and forty bullet holes later, we see this recoilless. Andy lines us up and Staff Sergeant McNab lays into these fuckers with the 134. Moral of the story, Chief Anderson scared the shit out of me and eleven Hondurans, but he got us home safe."

There was silence for a few minutes before Grimes replied.

"Great, I should've wrote a letter home."

The rest of Blackhawk crew burst out laughing.

"Gambler, five minutes out."

"Copy Sword. Gambler flight echelon right. Two, we're touching down first. Three and Four will cover. " Anderson keyed the internal comms. "Aight boys, five minutes. The second I touch down, you all better be off my chopper."

The cavalrymen in back chuckled as they checked magazines and made sure their kevlar was on tight. Anderson began to listen intently to the comms, both American and Japanese.

" _Sword 1-2, we got eyes on Italica. Hostile ground on both side of the wall."_

" _Copy 2. Let the gun ships handle them."_

" _Kengun taisa, Akuma 2-4 psyops o kaishi suru kyoka_ _."_

" _Hey dipshit, speak English so we get this shit right."_

" _My apologies, friend."_

" _Akuma 2-4, Colonel Kengun. Permission granted, I believe Ride of the Valkyries would fit the mood."_

Anderson rolled his eyes at the recommendation, his co-pilot had a similar reaction. Their annoyance turned to outright shock when one of the American pilots got on the comms.

" _Akuma 2-4, belay that order. There is no way in hell we're playing that shit."_

Flying several meters behind Gambler, was a UH-1 Huey modified to hold to massive speakers in the rear compartment. Over the thumping of the rotor blades, the psyops chopper began to play its song.

 **XXXXX**

The sound of rotor blades slicing through the air drowned out the rhythm of rifle fire. The men who had been fighting paused to see what was making such an ungodly sound. Dozens of black dots on the horizon began to take form. They looked nothing like the flying beasts from before but they were just as unnerving as they approached. Less than two miles out, both the bandits and the Italica defenders could swear they heard a song.

 _Dark in the city, night is a wire_

 _Steam in the subway, earth is a fire_

Rory had been slaughtering bandits left and right when the noise came, Itami running in to snatch her up while the bandits were distracted. Two Marine Cobras opened fire on the bandits outside the gate, 7.62mm clashed against steel breast plates and metal helmets and in a matter of seconds many men had fallen.

 _Woman you want me, give me a sign_

 _And catch my breathing even closer behind_

Too large to land in the city interior, the Marine Sea Knight helicopters touched down outside the city gates, unleashing Marines out the back the moment they touched the ground. Rifles crackled as they laid waste to the bandits too close for comfort.

 _In touch with the ground_

 _I'm on the hunt I'm after you_

TOW missiles arched from Japanese and American Cobras and smash enemy ballistas that attempted to fire upon the landing Sea Knights. Several Japanese Hueys hovered outside the gate and men began to fast rope down as the door gunner went to work on bandit formations.

 _Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

The Blackhawks of the Second Battalion, 158th Aviation Regiment passed overhead, door gunners firing down on the bandits below as they made their way to a landing. For them, the LZ was the gardens outside the Italica manor. The first Blackhawk touched down and nine men jumped out either side, rifles raised they set up a perimeter, much to the shock of Myui's guards.

 _Straddle the line in discord and rhyme_

 _I'm on the hunt I'm after you_

The two tanks in DuPont's section moved up, putting pressure on the bandit army's rear guard. Around the same time, Donavan and his unit had arrived to support the Cavalry men already engaged near the east gate. The bandits in the city had become fish in a barrel.

 _Mouth is alive with juices like wine_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

The four helicopters in Gambler flight stalked the skies above Italica, the door gunners sending occasional bursts of minigun fire to the battle below. Pina stood there and watched from her vantage point. She and her page would bear witness to the might of the Task Force.

 _A scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

High above, the F-15s of Hawk Flight flew in a lazy circle, observing the the battle below. "Maintain 10,000 feet, boys. Airspace is crowded down there." Masson said as he leveled the aircraft.

 _Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme_

 _I howl and I whine, I'm after you_

On the ground, Nathaniel stood up from behind cover. "Cease fire, cease fire!"

The rattling of rifle and machine gun fire died down along the line. Rayland picked up his machine gun and moved forward scanning the area in front of him. He turned back around and yelled back to his squad mates.

"Clear!"

 _Mouth is alive, all running inside_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

"Good work boys, but we ain't done yet. Moore, O'Hare, Mulligan, with me." Nathaniel ordered as he slipped by his exhausted men. Rifles bounced of shoulders or hung loosely from hands as the four moved into the square.

 _Hungry like the wolf_

 _Hungry like the wolf_

 _Hungry like the wolf_

"Yo Mul, I think the air wingers are trying to piss you off."

Mulligan sighed. "For once, I don't mind."

 _Burning the ground, I break from the crowd_

 _I'm on the hunt, I'm after you_

"Lieutenant Itami, you still alive?" Nathaniel called out.

The SDF lieutenant raised his Type-64 rifle in the air and called back. "Somehow!"

 _I smell like I sound, I'm lost and I'm found_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

The American lieutenant gave a toothy grin. "Eh, it wasn't all that bad."

Itami looked around at all the corpses lying about the battlefield. Rifle snapped from outside the walls.

"You're insane." Itami replied.

 _Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme_

 _I'm on the hunt, I'm after you_

"We aim to please, Itami! By the way, what happened with Rory back there?"

Itami shrugged. "No fucking clue. Apparently, during a battle, the souls of the dead pass through her. Lelei said something along the lines of 'she needs to relieve herself in battle' or something."

"Itami, she's going to be a liability if we don't do something about her…."

Nathaniel turned around and brought up his weapons in a panic after Rayland opened up with the 60. He was heavy on the trigger, firing and cursing as he back pedaled. Charging at him and going in for the kill was Rory. While Rory was fast she wasn't fast enough to escape Rayland's panicked shooting. Machine gun rounds tore into the apostles small frame. The kinetic force was enough to drop the Death Apostle several feet from the squad gunner.

Rayland stood there stammering, fear on the edge of his voice. "W-what the fuck."

 _Mouth is alive with juices like wine_

 _And I'm hungry like the wolf_

"Private what the fuck just happened!?"

"I-I don't know sir? One moment she's just standing there, the next she's charging right at me."

"It's true Ell-tee, saw the whole damn thing," Connor replied keeping his rifle pointed at Rory. "If Ray didn't shoot her I would have."

Itami who had been standing there dumbstruck finally spoke up. "She was our ally!"

Allen scoffed. "I don't think allies try to frag each other Sir."

Itami spun around and faced Allen, despite Itami's rage Allen stared him down.

"Well I got to say, you humans are an interesting lot."

"Jesus Christ!" Rayland yelled as Rory stood back and brushed herself off. The Apostle expelled several MG rounds from her body.

"Fuck Ray shoot her again!" Allen cried.

"Gladly."

"Belay that Private!"

Not lowering his rifle Connor replied to Itami "With all due respect Sir, she just tried to kill Ray."

"You don't think we fuckin' know that Specialist? If it was up to me I'd shoot her, but it ain't my place to decide. Now stand the fuck down." Nathaniel replied lowering his M9.

The three soldier begrudgingly lowered their weapons. Stepping back they wandered off back towards their comrades on the side street. Itami gave Nathaniel a nervous look.

"You're not going to tell command about this?"

Nathaniel glared at Itami. "I can't just hand wave this Itami, you're good peoples man but she has got to go."

"Aww, sending me away already?"

"Can it." Nathaniel retorted jabbing a finger in Rory's direction. "Why the hell are you so intent on keeping her around?"

"She's an asset to Recon Three."

"And what happens when she kills one of your men?"

"It won't happen again."

"How do you know that? Fuck man she's a wild card you can't control her!"

"She's staying Wheeler and that's final!" Itami retorted. He turned around and stormed off towards the members of his team. Rory fell in next to him and clung to his arm. She looked over her shoulder at Nathaniel and grinned.

 **Italica, Earth Date November 8, 1985, 07:45, Special Region**

Lieutenant Hyong paced alongside the east wall as he made way towards where the majority of the fighting had taken place. All around him were the bodies of dead bandits and Italica guardsmen. He pulled his cavalry scarf up over his nose to ward off the stench.

On a staircase leading up to the battlements, the battle weary men of Thrird platoon lounged about. Covered in sweat and grime, they passed around canteens of water and packs of cigarettes. Hyong approach the stairs with a grin from across the courtyard he could hear Hooked on a feeling playing.

"Well, you all look comfortable."

"Hey Lieutenant Hyong," James replied pushing himself up from his seat. "Took you first platoon boys long enough get here."

Hyong shrugged. "Well you know we had to stop off at the diner before we left, and Sergeant Hart wanted to hit all the roadside attractions."

"Speaking of Second where the hell are they?"

"Down below helping with prisoner round up."

James raised an eye. "10,000 attacked us, Sir, how many prisoners did we take?"

A familiar voice answered the Sergeants question.

"Preliminary count, about two to three thousand." At the bottom of the staircase stood Lisa. The news reporter had left Combat company after they had returned from Kester, she returned to the United Press International branch in Tokyo. In the month Lisa was there, the war correspondent and her team had compiled the pictures and notes she had taken to publish her first article.

"Hey, boys look who's back," James called back to his men.

The men began to stir as the looked to the bottom of the stairs. Travis removed a Mariners baseball cap from his face and looked over at the correspondent.

" 'Ey Paperboy, glad to see you made it back to us."

Lisa groaned. "Really wish you guys would stop calling me that."

"It's a term of endearment," Rayland said walking up behind her carrying two jugs of ale. "And speaking of endearment how's little sis doing?"

"Yeah, how is the pup doing?" Allen piped up, in the heat of the day he had replaced his kevlar helmet with a field cap that he wore backward.

Lisa smiled. "You mean Lia? Yeah, she's doing alright, the kid wanted to hitch a ride with me out here to see you guys."

"Well, I know this is supposed to be a heart warming and all but we got a problem now." James interrupted.

Hyong raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."

"Only a couple of companies to guard three thousand prisoners, maybe more." James sat back down. "And Phoenix is spread thin as it is."

"Oh, you won't have to worry about that long." Lisa piped up. "A friend of mine in Europe told me NATO plans to get involved."

"Really, well I'm generally surprised. Can they really do that, like can they commit the troops." Rayland said pouring some ale into one of his platoon mates mess cups.

"Yeah, Chernenko is more concerned with China than NATO right now. Went so far as the pull some units out of Eastern Europe and commit them to Asia."

"So who's involved?" Rayland asked filling another cup.

"Britain, Netherlands, maybe Germany. Nothing major but enough to relieve pressure off of you guys. Also before I forget." Lisa reached into her camera bag and pulled out a newspaper and handed it to James. "I was able to get you boys on the front page," Lisa said with a smile.

James unfolded the newspaper and just as she said Task Force Phoenix had made the front page. Center of the page was a colored picture of Combat Company and just above was the title of the article. The Boys of '85.

"Boys of '85 has a nice ring to it." James handed the paper off to Connor.

"Yeah, after it's all said and done I want to turn it into a book," Lisa replied.

Allen laughed. "Shit Paperboy hit us up when you start and we'll fund it for ya."

"I appreciate the offer O'Hare, but it'll be a while before I get around to working on it." Lisa looked around. "Besides it looks like you guys got quite a ways to go."

The war correspondent swung her camera and took a photo of the men enjoying what little time they had off.


	9. Chapter Eight: On The Move

So yeah it's been like damn near a year since the last chapter by hey life happens.

But hey I got a good excuse that ain't video games and school this time.

Let's see, I enlisted so yeah that happened. Went through OSUT for tank school so that was like six months. Caught the tail end of a rotation to Korea, kinda fun was there for like a few weeks before the Battalion rotated out. Uhhhh shot gunnery that was fun. Went to CST to train Cadets for a month, got to teach college kids to shoot then play OPFOR and ambush them, kinda sucked because Kentucky is too hot for my blood. We just finished up servicing the tanks that really fucking sucked, and uhhh we're preparing to go out into the field for what looks like damn near three months straight.

So yeah here y'all got chapter eight a year later. Hopefully I won't take so long next time.

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: On The Move**

 _Hi Ho Lock and Load, Engines are running we're ready to go_

 _Kill the enemy take control, So early in the morning_

 _-Hi Ho Lock and Load, US Army Cadence_

 **FOB Alnus Command Center, Earth Date November 12, 1985, 11:11, Special Region**

Several days after the Battle for Italica, the city had come under the full control of the task force. The remaining bandit troopers had either fled into the surrounding countryside or surrendered to the task force. But just as one problem subsided another arose, the number of bandits surrendering had become more than what the men in Italica could bear. Makeshift stockades were erected and anyone not pulling detail was now pulling eighteen-hour guards shifts. Their only break was a small four-hour nap between pulling repair detail and guard. In short, the men were being stretched to their limits.

But it wasn't just them being pushed to the limit, several hundred miles back the understrength task force was slowly edging the frontline forward. They were trying to close the rift that had formed between the Alnus front line and the Italica province. The 'Wilderness' as men started to call it, was lawless, with little to no task force or imperial presence, bandits and raiders made easy pickings of trade caravans and farms. It soon became apparent to General Hazama that the Wilderness had to be tamed as soon as possible.

Colonel Casner furrowed his brow as he studied the papers scattered about the desk in front of him. The fallout from the assault on Italica, after action reports, the number of enemy dead, POW reports, logistics. All of it high command wanted to be compiled and sent back to the TOC in Ginza. Casner grabbed his coffee mug off the desk and took a sip, it was cold and grimey. He had forgotten how long he had been at it.

The colonel put on his BDU blouse and grabbed his patrol cap on the way out of his office. He stumbled down the hallway as he made his way towards the exit, he pushed open the heavy steel door and stepped outside. Casner put up a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the light, he yawned and looked around. It was another normal day on the FOB, men milled about smoking and shooting the shit while others went about their day carrying paperwork to various sites throughout the base.

"Casner, where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over the damn base looking for you."

Casner looked over and saw Arnett approaching him, however, the Lieutenant colonel wasn't wearing his normal garrison uniform. Instead, he wore a woodland patterned flak vest over his BDUs and a kevlar helmet was tucked under his arm, an M16 rifle was slung over his shoulder.

"You going somewhere, Arnett?"

The Marine shrugged.

"The honorable Hazama wanted someone 'experienced' taking over the Italica garrison. And to the great General and his staff, it should be none other than a Grenada Marine to take over."

"Meaning he's trying to get you out of the way." Casner replied to his counterpart.

"What can I say, the man doesn't like criticism. Especially after I made that remark about him not keeping his staff in check."

Casner rubbed the back of his neck, yet another problem added to the pile.

"So you're leaving me to handle the Japanese by myself."

Arnett nodded, he slapped Casner on the shoulder before walking off.

"Watch your back brother, I wouldn't be surprised if the General throws you under the bus if shit goes south."

 **Italica, Earth Date November 12, 1985, 15:11, Special Region**

"Back! Get the fuck back!" Allen yelled bringing the stock of his rifle into his shoulder aiming at the mob that had formed in front of the stockade. It was supposed to be a quiet shift with little to nothing to worry about, however, the mob of enraged citizens changed all that. They had lost friends and family to the bandit raiders during the battle and they believed that when it was all said and done that the bandit prisoners would be summarily executed. That was not to be, with the task force in command came a new set of laws laid out by the UN and Geneva convention, laws that the townsfolk found unsatisfactory. Instead of letting the situation be and letting the task force handle the prisoners they brought it upon themselves to handle them.

"Al you better get these people back before shit gets outta hand!" Rayland yelled as he fiddled with the SINCGAR radio.

"The hell do you think I'm doing Ray?!" Allen yelled over his shoulder, Connor and two more men from his unit got online with Allen each man pointing their weapon at the mob.

"Combat Three One, this is Combat Three Three. We've got a mob gathering near the holding area, request support over." Rayland said into the receiver, he looked over his shoulder at the crowd. They were yelling, a few carried sharpened sticks while others carried swords and axes. Rayland swallowed the lump in his throat and looked over at his comrades, the situation was a powder keg ready to blow.

"Combat Three Three, Combat Three One. Five and four are on their way, ETA ten minutes."

"Allen, S'arnt's coming in ten minutes!" Rayland cried picking up his M60 and joining his squad on the line.

"Never an easy day man, never an easy fucking day."

"You can say that again Mul," Allen replied.

Tensions rose as the standoff continued, Rayland did all he could to try to talk down the mob but with little success. Things seemed like they were about to reach their tipping point when their support arrived. However, it wasn't Smith who had come to their aid, riding up on horseback were several members of the Rose Order. Allen recognized a few of them from the battle but among them were many new faces. The Americans watched on as the knight Grey yelled at the crowd, it took a while but the veteran knight was able to disperse the crowd. One by one the mob walked away, some throwing down their weapons. Allen safed his rifle and walked over to the knights. In the best special region language, he could muster he thanked the knights.

"Appreciate the help."

Grey dismounted his horse and faced the young corporal.

"Think nothing of it; you pulled us out of the fire during the battle. We're just trying to repay the favor. Also, you should be thanking Hamilton, had she not told us what was going on well, best not to think about what could've happened."

Allen looked over at Hamilton, he had seen the knight around town but the two hadn't talked since the night of the battle. Allen nodded at Grey before walking over to Hamilton.

"Ma'am," Allen started, the knight turned around and faced him. "Grey told me what you did for us, thank you, you saved us a whole lot of trouble."

"I-it's nothing, I just didn't want to see anyone hurt," Hamilton replied with a nervous smile.

"Well, you sure achieved that."

Allen glanced over the stockade.

"Tell me _Militus,_ what do you gain out from protecting these criminals."

"What did you just, never mind. About the prisoners though, I guess information. Honest to god I don't give two shits about what happens to them."

"Then why risk your life for them?"

"Because someone up top wants them alive, and we can't just go around killing EPWs."

"EPWs?"

"Enemy Prisoner of War. Anyhow, I'll let you go on about your day." Allen said as he started to walk away, four more hours and he'd be done with his shift.

"What was that about?"

"She was the one who told the Rose order we were in a bind, Ray."

"Oh, guess you lose Mul."

"God fuckin' damnit!"

"Quit your bitchin' and pay up bro."

Connor mumbled as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"The fuck is this about?"

"Robbery that what it is."

Connor handed a twenty dollar bill to Rayland.

"We made a bet, dumbshit said twenty bucks you were gonna flirt with her."

Allen chuckled. "Y'all a bunch of dickheads."

"Nah dawg, Ray's a dickhead I'm just-"

"Stupid."

Connor punched Rayland in the gut, leaving the squad gunner keeled over.

"Was gonna say victim dipshit."

"You two are fuckin' retarded you know that." Allen laughed.

Rayland got back up with a grin. "What's that make you Al."

Allen though for a moment. "A little less retarded than you lot."

Just then, two gun trucks pulled up to the holding area. Sergeant Smith got out of the lead Humvee carrying his M16 at the low ready.

"Goddamn took them long enough," Allen said loud enough for his NCO to hear. James responded by flipping Allen off, the fire team laughed.

"Come on, let's see if we can get off early."

 **Several miles outside Italica, Earth Date November 14, 1985, 17:11, Special Region**

Lance held the T bar steady as he drove the Abrams down the cobblestone road on another routine presence patrol. After the battle the members of the tank platoon thought they'd be recalled to Alnus, that was not the case. Orders had come down telling them to remain in the Italica area and patrol the highways between towns, for the past several days they had done just that. The four Abrams were trailed by two soft skin humvees from Charlie Company, the lead Abrams turret traverse left and right as it looked for targets. They hadn't been down this road before, but it took them in a northwesterly direction towards Alnus mountain range and beyond that the Imperial Capital. Lance was beginning to zone out just as he heard his tank commanders voice in the CVC helmet.

"Dupont, take a left up here."

Lance looked out of his front vision block, coming up was a turn off onto a dirt road.

"Copy." Lance pulled back on the T bar bringing the 62-ton tank off the Roman highway and onto the dirt path, he gave the tank some throttle and brought the speed back up to thirty miles per hour. A few minutes after they turned off onto the country road the scenery began to change, farms and homesteads became more common.

"Hey uhh, Sergeant, where are we going? Thought we were just supposed to patrol the highway?"

"Got a call from Alnus Hepner, guys up top want us to pull security for some UN scientist up in this town called Cosa."

"Great, sounds like we're spending the night out in the field." Austin groaned as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the loaders tray.

"Get used to it fast, we could be out here for a while depending on our guy." Taylor responded.

The tanks continued down the road for several more minutes before arriving at Cosa. Cosa was a small farming town with a decent population, most of the residents lived on their farms on the outskirts of town while many of the craftsman and trade workers live in Cosa itself. The four tanks stopped in what seemed to be the town square, vendors watched from their stalls as Taylor dismounted his tank with an M3 grease gun tucked under his arm. As his boots hit the ground he was greeted by an Infantry Specialist.

"Sorry to drag you out here man, crazy ass doc wouldn't shut the hell up about providing security for his discovery." The specialist yelled over the turbine engine.

"Don't worry about it." Taylor started to say before he spotted his platoon leader approaching out of the corner of his eye.

The specialist saluted Lieutenant Rossette. "Afternoon sir."

The lieutenant returned the salute. "Afternoon, so where's this UN doc?"

"Fawning over his 'Relic' here. I'll lead you to him." The specialist replied.

"How far away is this… relic?" Taylor asked putting his CVC back on.

"Other side of town, it's about an hour and a half walk."

Taylor jabbed a thumb at his tank. "Hop on, we'll make it eight."

The platoon sergeant climbed back up onto the front slope and back into the turret, the specialist climbed up after him and settled into the bustle rack with a look of pure joy on his face.

Taylor brought the mic of his CVC closer to his face. "Driver prep for open hatch driving, bring us forward."

"Roger." The tank lurched forwards as Lance throttled back on the tank. Taylor clasped the mic in one hand and leaned back in the cupola and yelled over the roar of the engine and sound of trackpads hitting the ground.

"First time riding on a tank?"

"Yes, S'arnt."

The tank turned to follow the bend in the street, on either side natives of the town gathered to watch the platoon navigate the cobblestone roads.

"Whatcha think."

The specialist smiled. "Beats the hell outta walking S'arnt."

"If you didn't like walking you shoulda been a nineteen kilo."

"What?"

"You should have been a Kilo."

"Hell no Sergeant, I'll take eleven mike before I swap branches."

Taylor laughed. "Too attached to that blue cord to turn it in?"

"I'll turn in my cord when you turn in your armor crest."

"Ain't gonna happen."

"Exactly S'arnt, being an eleven bravo is a part of me now. Same as how being a Kilo is a part of you."

The tank commander nodded. "Couldn't say it better myself."

The tanks continued to lumber down the streets, every once in awhile Taylor would look over his shoulder to see his platoon leader or section sergeants waving to people on the streets. This wasn't the first time the townsfolk had seen members of the task force, the Second Recon Team had first made contact with the town early in the campaign and since then the town had frequently visited by task force patrols. Some of the adventuress children ran along the side the tank much to the dismay of the drivers, navigating the narrow streets was hard enough without throwing a potential accident in the mix. The platoon sergeant kept quiet and let the drivers concentrate on their work.

"Four Delta, One Delta you got some kids alongside your right fender."

"Copy I see 'em."

"This is Three Delta, next turn is uhh pretty sharp, may have to pivot."

"I don't know about y'all but I threw this bitch in low a while ago."

"Same here DuPont, hey uhh Two you good back there?"

"Just trying to avoid an article, Jackson."

"You hit one of them and it's more than an article Perez."

"You sayin' I hit one of the fuckers I can get chaptered out?"

"Yeup."

"Awesome wait one."

The drivers continued bantering as they navigated the town, yet another way to handle the stress.

It wasn't long before the narrow streets and market stalls once more gave way to farm fields and homesteads. Taylor leaned back and asked the Infantryman how much further they had to go. When he responded with less than a kilometer the platoon sergeant gave the order to give open up the throttle. There was an audible clunk as Lance switched the gear from low to drive and Taylor had to brace himself as the tank began to pick up speed. Coming up on the right side of the dirt road Taylor could see the silhouette of a Marine M60A1 Rise. The turret of the M60 traversed to face them, paused for a second, then continued to scan the horizon.

"Y'all got the Marines to pull security too?"

The specialist shrugged. "Beats me, they weren't here when I left S'arnt."

The platoon entered the assembly area and took up positions next to the Marine tanks, covering any blind spots that may have previously existed in the line. Taylor moved the mic of his CVC closer to his mouth.

"Alright Dupont, give her two."

"Roger," Lance replied hitting the shutdown button next to the drivers' display. An orange light came one indicating the two-minute engine cool down and an audible whine as the engine began to slow itself down. "Leave master power on S'arnt?"

"Yeah, step out as well but stay close by."

The tank commander took off his CVC and lifted himself out of the turret. He slipped a patrol cap over his shaved head as he dismounted the tank. He heard the thumps of boots hitting the hard packed ground as his crew and the infantryman slid off the right fender of the tank. Taylor slowed his pace to let the infantryman catch up to him as he trudged over to his platoon leader. Lieutenant Daniel Rossette jogged across the assembly area towards the platoon sergeant.

"Your boys good to go Sergeant."

Taylor nodded. "Yes, Sir." Taylor liked his new platoon leader, he wasn't like the other "Butterbar" lieutenants he had served under in the past.

Normally the first commision was the hardest for new officers straight out of training, they had a tendency to make mistakes, override the decisions of NonComs and over delegate tasks. Daniel was different however, he relied on his platoon sergeant and sections leader guidance. There had been many long nights back in Japan as Daniel and Taylor stayed behind at the company building trying to make sure the cross over into the Special Region went as smoothly as possible. Taylor had wondered what had happened to Daniel to make him different from other new officers. The answer had dawned on him the day Bravo company had deployed to the special region, Lieutenant Rossette had the luck of his first overseas rotation being a combat deployment. Even though it was a low-intensity conflict and the chance of a combat casualty was low, in the eyes of the Lieutenant a mistake on his part could be just a deadly as a war with the Union.

Daniel looked over at the infantryman.

"So this relic?"

"Right, this way." The specialist replied, motioning for them to follow. The assembly area had been set up a few hundred meters away from the site. The walk was spent in silence and it didn't take long for them to reach the site. To say the least neither of them were prepared for what they saw. They had gotten used to seeing dragons, elves, fantasy creatures that only existed in books, but this, this caught them off guard.

Tracks buried in the ground, patches of green paint stood out against the rust, turret traversed to the right as if it expected contact to come from that direction, and most prominent three large dents where rounds had hit the front slope many years ago. Bold, white writing stood out on the turret's side. The task force had stumbled upon an abandoned Soviet T-34.

 **Italica, Earth Date November 15, 1985, 06:15, Special Region**

Allen woke to the sound of rain hitting the canvas roof of the GP tent. He rolled over in his cot and picked up his watch, a little past six twenty in the morning. The corporal sat up and began rummaging through his rucksack, he pulled out an army pt shirt and a pair of BDU trousers and quickly dressed. Through physical training wasn't required while they operated out of Italica it wasn't uncommon to see soldiers conducting personal pt either out of habit or a way to kill time. Allen grabbed his walkman and clipped it to his BDU trousers, threw on his belt rigging and holster, and put on his earbuds, he'd be damned if a little rain would stop his Friday run. He pushed his way out of one of the olive drab door, immediately he was chilled to the bone. He hit the play button on his walkman and Don't Fear the Reaper filled his ears.

"Fuck this continent and it's ass-backward weather." He muttered before he took off running towards the city gates.

Charlie company had set up camp outside the city, green tents dotted the farm fields and torn earth showed the telltale signs of the task force vehicles. Allen's pt shoes sunk into the mud slightly until he reached the cobblestone roads of Italica. He picked up his face from a light job to run. He weaved his way through the checkpoint, flashing his ID card at the guards as he ran by. Despite the rain task force operation still operated at full capacity.

Allen rounded the corner onto one of the city's major avenues, this had become one of his favorite routes to run in the mornings. From the squad tent back at the encampment to the main market avenue up to the Formal mansion. It was a comfortable distance there and back was just short of six miles. As he ran down the street the shops that normally would be set up by now still had their shutters closed tight. The rain hadn't stopped Allen from running but it sure as hell stopped the stores from opening. He sped up trying to maintain the six-minute pace he had when he was garrisoned at Fort Hood. By the time it his watch had hit six thirty-three he had reached the gates of the Formal mansion. He was getting ready to turn around and run back when he heard someone call out to him from inside the mansion courtyard.

" _Militus_?" Allen stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, standing under the overhang of the gate was Hamilton. The knight no longer wore her armor, instead, she was dressed in a pale yellow dress. "What are you doing out in the rain?"

Allen rubbed the back of his neck as he approached the gate. "Physical trainin'." Replied nonchalantly. "And you ma'am, what's got you out here in the weather?"

"I was checking on the horses." Hamilton studied the cavalryman, he was soaked from head to toe and it seemed to bother him little. "Do you want to come inside _Militus_? I imagine a warm place by the fire is more pleasant than standing out in the rain."

By now the adrenaline from the run had long since left Allen's body and with his heart rate slowing down he began to feel the bite of the rain.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer ma'am." He replied. Allen saw no risk in warming up in the manner, the building had become the garrison TOC when the task force set up shop a week back.

Hamilton motioned for one of the guards to open the gate, the gate unlatched with a heavy clunk and Allen slipped inside and out of the rain. The two made their way toward the mansion picking up their pace to avoid getting caught in the rain any more than they had to. Stand outside the heavy wood door was a Buttler working for the Formal clan and an American rifleman Allen recognized from First Platoon.

"Damn Al what brings you up to the TOC, I thought third was on recovery?"

Allen shrugged. "We are, I was just taking a run and got caught in the rain."

"Well you know what they say, If it ain't rainin' you ain't trainin'."

"Ehh fuck off Castillo." Allen replied walking into the mansion "Stay safe man."

Castillo chuckled. "I'm safe as I can be bro, got my rifle and mute bob over here to protect me."

"What was that about?" Hamilton asked as the door shut behind them.

"Huh? Oh, he's a friend of mine."

"Uh huh," Hamilton replied as she led Allen to the mansions great rooms. Allen couldn't help but be impressed by the architecture and furniture of the mansion. Hamilton cocked her head in curiosity as Allen admired the room. "What's wrong, as a man of nobility this shouldn't surprise you."

"Nobility? I grew up on a cattle ranch in Montana." Allen replied absentmindedly as his attention shifted to a portrait on the wall.

Hamilton was astonished, this whole time she had thought the Outlander was a Knight from a noble household, not a lowly farmhand.

"I-I thought you were a night, the way you talk and act. Surely you're joking."

"Nope. I'm just your everyday joe." Allen sat down in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace.

"And the others in your order, Knight Rayland and Knight Mulligan, are they?"

Allen burst out laughing. "Hell nah, Rayland is the son of a chaplain and Mulligan is the son of a sharecropper. We're the furthest from nobility as you can get, the hell made you think that in the first place?"

Hamilton puffed up as she tried to defend herself. "It was the way Sir Wheeler would talk about your order and the knight under him."

"Well, the Ell-tee has a habit of talking up the cavalry quite a bit," Allen replied. "We're not nobles, we're not a knightly order, we're just a bunch of guys who got lucky enough to be assigned to an organization that loves its traditions."

Hamilton sat down across from the cavalryman.

"If none of your are nobility then who is in command? Surely it can't be some low born peasant leading your order?"

Allen thought on the question for a moment trying to find a simple way to explain officers and enlisted to the young knight before him.

"Well, our military is broken into two groups, officers and enlisted. Enlisted you need no special requirements to join, just be in good health and your signature. Officers, however, require a uhh, higher form of education."

"Officers? So men like Sir Wheeler?"

Allen nodded. "Yes, he's a First Lieutenant which is one step ahead of the lowest rank of officers."

Hamilton nodded. "So who is above him? A knight captain?"

"Right track wrong name, above him would be Captain Swanky whom you've luckily not had the pleasure of meeting."

Hamilton put a hand on her chin. "And this Captain Swanky, he is not a lord."

"Yep, the ranks keep on going after the Captain it would be Major Elliot who is the battalion executive officer, then Lieutenant Colonel Casner is in charge of the battalion." Allen had to pause for a minute as he tried to remember his chain of command from Fort Lewis but he continued to draw a blank. "Well I can't remember the name of the brigade commander but he would be a Colonel, division commander would be a Major General, Corps would be a Lieutenant General."

Allen could see that Hamilton was starting to get confused so he decided to call it quits before he himself dove head first into the confusion of army groups and theater command. But Hamilton still had a few more questions.

"Where does overall command fall to?"

Finally a simple answer. "The Commander in Chief, the leader of our nation President Reagan."

"And he's not a lord?"

Allen nodded. "Yeup, President Reagan was an actor before he became Governor of California."

Hamilton leaned back in her seat, what a strange nation if a simple actor could come to command an army.

"And you, where do you fall into to all this?"

"Me? I'm just a Specialist, I'm just here for the muscle."

"Specialist, that's enlisted correct."

Allen nodded. "Junior enlisted, right below NCOs."

"So it breaks down further."

"Yes, all these ranks just cogs in the machine."

 **FOB Alnus Motor Pool, 09:30, Special Region**

"Thirty Cartons of cigarettes."

"Check, eww menthol."

"Kiss my ass, ten cases of Jolt Cola."

"Checked off bro."

"A year subscription to…. Playboy magazine…" Kincaid looked up at his loader. "Dawg really."

"Nigga don't get high and mighty on me, shit gonna look nice around the turret."

Kincaid rolled his eyes at Wilkes. "Carrying on, various fatty cakes and a plethora of pogey bait."

"Mmmmm," Wilkes replied shoving a strip of jerky in his mouth. "Check."

"Aight that's it dawg, we ready to roll," Kincaid said as they began packing up the items into cardboard boxes and stacking them in the bustle rack. As the last of the boxes were secured in the bustle rack the gunner looked down at the last box on the engine deck. It was filled with brand new uniforms courtesy of the Army. Kincaid stepped down from the turret and onto the engine deck and pulled a BDU summer top out of the box. An OD green "Marines" name tab was sewn above the left breast pocket and an eagle, globe, and anchor had been stenciled on the left breast pocket. Telltale signs of last-minute work.

"Yo, why is the Army forcing this shit on us now?" Kincaid asked no one in particular. "You think if they were gonna issue us new uniforms they'd do it before, you know, we crossed over into an alien world."

It was at that time that his tank commander, Corporal Parker Elton, pushed himself out of the turret.

"Beats me dawg. Honestly, though I like more than the pickle suits."

Kincaid shook his head. "That ain't the problem, I think the shit looks futuristic as fuck. The problem is why are we getting this shit when we're thirty minutes from going outside the wire."

Wilkes smacked his lips. "Man quit yo bitchin'."

Kincaid picked up the box and threw it in the bustle rack, as he climbed back up onto the turret he placed the BDU top back into the box and pulled out a patrol cap.

"What's with this train conductor bullshit?"

"Kincaid, I need a rear ground guide," Elton called from the front of the Patton.

The Gunner slid off the front fender and threw the PC into the drivers' hatch.

"Merry Christmas Little John."

The driver threw the cap off to the side. "I don't want this shit."

Elton and Kincaid ground guided the tank off the line and behind the platoon leaders tank. Kincaid shadowed the tank until they left the HESCO barrier walls of the compound. The Gunner mounted the tank, climbed into the turret and slid in behind the fire controls. Ever since the Battle for Italica, it had seemed like Charlie company and more specifically his platoon was always on the move.

There was a mad scramble on the task forces part to close the gap between Italica and Alnus. It had become the number one priority before they could continue to push the boundaries and explore more of the Special Region. As they were about to leave FOB his platoon leader, Lieutenant James Aldrich came over the platoon net.

"Horseman One, all tanks stand fast we're gonna have some company on this run."

Kincaid couldn't see it but he knew Elton had just thrown up his arms in a proverbial 'What the fuck'.

"One this is Four, how long are we gonna hold?"

"Estimated forty-five minutes."

"Jesus fucking Christ, hey Benitez go ahead and pop hatch we're gonna be here for a bit."

Kincaid shed his uniform top and used it as a rest, if they were going to be there for a while might as well catch some shut-eye.

 **XXXXX**

Kincaid was jostled awake by the heel of Elton's boot in his shoulder.

"Yo wake the fuck up."

The gunner sat up and stretched the best he could in the cramped crew compartment, his right leg had fallen asleep and his hands didn't fare much better. As he flexed his hand trying to work blood back into the veins he heard Wilkes voice in his CVC.

"Well, won't you look at that."

Kincaid's eyes immediately went to the primary sight, he traversed the turret towards the entrance of the FOB three hundred meters back. Rolling down the road were several Panhard M3 troop carriers and trucks painted white with a blue UN superimposed on each vehicle. The vehicles carried everything from troops to supplies and each one flew an Irish flag.

A voice crackled over that radio which Kincaid recognized as the TC of Horseman Two, Sergeant Abe Johnson.

"Ha, took them long enough."

"Horseman One, change of plan boys were babysitting the UN en route to Italica.


End file.
